


A Bucket Full Of Violet

by Fox_Salz



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Animal Play, Aphrodisiacs, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, BDSM, Begging, Bickering, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bodyswap, Breast Fucking, Bukkake, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Cam work, Canon Disabled Character, Casual Sex, Choking, Clothed Sex, Cock Worship, Daddy Kink, Double Penetration, Erotic Electrostimulation, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Finger Sucking, Gags, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Ice Play, Impact Play, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Latex, Leather Kink, Lingerie, M/M, Maids, Master/Pet, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Mirrors, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Penetrative Sex, Non-Sexual Bondage, Nook Eating (Homestuck), Nook Fingering (Homestuck), Nylon, Office Sex, Orgasm Denial, Outdoor Sex, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Predator/Prey, Psionics, Puppy Play, Riding Crops, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Service Top, Sex Pollen, Sex Toys, Sex Work, Shibari, Size Difference, Spanking, Spitroasting, Temperature Play, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacle Sex, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - M/M/M, Underwater Sex, Violence, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, Wax Play, Wet & Messy, Xenophilia, brat taming, cat play, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2020-11-09 10:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 32,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Salz/pseuds/Fox_Salz
Summary: Kinktober fills that all involve Cronus and/or Dualscar, because I like this fish getting laid.1. Sol/Cro/Eri2. Dual/Psii3. Dual/Cro4. Por/Cro5. Cro/Dirk6. Dual/Nep7. Dual/Summ8. Cro/Dam9. Cro/Psii10. Dual/Alpha Dave11. Dual/Kat12. Cro/Meu/Nep13. Dual/Leer14. Dolo/Dual15. Cro/Ruf16. Cro/Kat17. Dual/Gl'bgolyb18. Cro/Dave19. Dual/Aradia20. Dual/Sign21. Dual/Cro/Kri22. Cro/Tav23. Cro/Meenah; Cro/Por/Mee24. Dual/Disciple25. Dual/Gam26. Cro/Eq27. Dual/Ruf28. Dual/Por29. Cronus/solo slash mystery client30. Dual/Glare31. Dual/Cro





	1. The Things Vwe Put Up Vwith For Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Idk what even to say here, hi hello Happy Halloween month, I do mean that ever single day will involve Cronus and/or Dualscar. I know what I'm about. 
> 
> The list I'm using btw is [this one](https://solluxisms.tumblr.com/post/187608675996/pabstbeerpussy-october-is-approaching-which).
> 
> | **Double (or more) Penetration** | Phone Sex | Size Kink/Extreme Size Kink

Cronus gasped out a curse as Sollux pulled him down fully into his lap. Those twin bulges squirmed in his wastechute. Cronus tried not to squirm with them.

Sollux let out a breathy sigh against the back of his neck as his fingers, tinged with psionics, squeezed his hips. They sent a jolt through him that made his own bulge dance, hungry nook clench on nothing. Sollux was so _warm_ against him that it was a relief when Eridan crawled between his legs, one hand roaming along Cronus’ left thigh. His other hand cupped Cronus’ chin, thumb stroking his bottom lip. There was a visible lust in his eyes. Cronus swallowed.

“Think you can still take me, too?”

“If you even know how to get it in him,” Sollux snorted before Cronus could reply.

“No one asked for your commentary, cretin,” Eridan snapped.

“Fuck, not again,” Cronus groaned. “Don’t turn this little exchange into a vwhole thing. Just get your bulge in me, _please._”

“Yeah, ED, stop wasting time. _Wwastin_’.”

“Sol, I swwear I wwill—“

“Finish that sentence vwith ‘put my bulge in you nowv’, I’m begging you.”

“Right. That’s much more important than acknowwledgin’ your vvile cesspool a commentary.”

Cronus could cry from relief as _finally_ Eridan took his bulge and led it towards his nook. Eagerly it pushed in, and Cronus’ back arched automatically. Eridan’s hand trailed up to run at one of his hornbeds encouragingly, whispering in his ear that he knew Cronus could take it.

Which, after what he'd been through with these two assholes, goddamn right he was gonna take all the bulge he could.

This whole evening they’d just fucking bickered, with Cronus stuck in the middle desperate and horny. At first it had been kind of funny to watch, and maybe a little flattering when they were trying to outdo each other using him, but it quickly grew old when everything came to a grinding halt so they could hurl insults at each other. Literally, everything just _stopped_.

Sollux had been caressing his fins with psionic charged fingers when a single snide remark was enough to send them spiraling into a back-and-forth where Cronus wasn’t getting any attention at all. Likewise Eridan had been working him open to take all three bulges and one little backhanded compliment got him stilling completely to snap back a series of insults that only escalated things. For ten minutes. _Ten minutes _of Cronus fucking dying with two fingers in his nook doing nothing and a small plug in his wastechute.

Now, though, Cronus was _full_. And there was no keeping their bulges still. He could feel Sollux’s twisted together, pulsating in a shared rhythm; in juxtaposition Eridan’s thrashed with abandon, sending vibrant pleasure through his nook and teasing his seedflap. Thankfully they were putting their mouths to better use, too, Sollux dragging his tongue along a fin while Eridan mouthed carefully around his gills. Cronus let his eyes fall shut, soaking it all in.

Fuck, this felt so _good_. So many sensations at once, a plethora of pleasure, Cronus could barely handle it. He was pretty sure he could pail at any second, and while that might be embarrassingly quick he was alright with that. _Fuck_, if they just kept—

“Oww! Wwatch it, Sol. Shock me again and I’ll—“

“You I won’t do shit, ED, stop acting tough.”

“Actin’? That’s it, you insufferable, good for nothin’ livin’ ba—“

Cronus smashed their lips together in a sloppy kiss. It was the only thing he could think of to diffuse the situation and keep things on the fuck-him-senseless track. Luckily Eridan instantly calmed down, kissing him back and turning it into something much more refined. Relief flooding him, Cronus relaxed and let him take lead as Sollux snickered against his skin.

By some bit of chance the fighting didn’t pick up again. Cronus pailed hard about as quick as he expected, head falling back against Sollux’s shoulder and giving Eridan a great angle to suck on his neck. They kept going until they’d pailed, too, filling Cronus with so much slurry he felt full even after they slowly pulled out of him.

They all made their way to the top of the platform, laying down with Cronus still in the middle. Sated, he tossed an arm over his eyes.

“Nowv that vwas—“

“Movve ovver, Sol! You’re hoggin’ all the bed. Look, me and Cro are at the edge.”

“I’m at the edge of my patience with your bitching, ED.”

There was movement and a thwack, and Cronus peeked out. Eridan had hit Sollux with a comfortplane that he was now ripping out of his grasp with psionics.

“Vwhy are you twvo like this?”

He went ignored. Rolling his eyes, Cronus turned on his stomach grabbed a spare comfortplane while he could, curving it around his earfins in a desperate attempt to just bask in the afterglow while the sound of a muffled pillow fight happened around him.


	2. Vwax On Vwax Oh Goddamnit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> |cuckholding|**candle/wax play**|dirty talk|

You should be wiser than to listen to the words “close your eyes, you’ll love this, trust me” from this asshole but you really aren’t. What you are is calm and content, not thinking twice about your kismesis’ request until something _hot_ drips onto the small of your back and you give a jolt.

“Don’t move, I’m doing something here.”

“Yeah, and that’s called pissing me off,” you growl. Of course that’s mitigated by the fact you relax back against the bed and don’t actually make a move to stop him.

Trilling like he doesn’t care—which he doesn’t—Mituna continues dripping hot wax across your back. After the initial shock it actually feels good. The heat is stark against your naturally chilled skin, just on this side of burning, almost too hot to handle. Thankfully Mituna has an iota of compassion and takes it slow, pausing periodically for you to adjust. After a bit the repetitiveness sends you into an almost trance like state.

Until his grating laugh slices through your calm.

“Ehehehe, fuck yeah.”

Ah, good, finally the other shoe drops.

“Vwhat the fuck havwe you done?”

“Shoosh your gaping talk tunnel and just enjoy the sensation.”

“I vwould but you’re obvwiously up to something.”

“Just making you feel good, my most hated.”

Mituna leans down, placing soft kisses along your neck. You try not to give in to the bastard. He’s just being hatemantic to get what he wants. It’s so hard, though, especially when he turns attention to your sensitive fins. Mituna nips at a tip before blowing hot air on them, making your fins go all aflutter. Then another drop of wax falls on your back and, well, fuck it. Feels nice. Might as well enjoy it.

He keeps teasing you as the dripping wax continues. You settle again, allowing yourself to relax. Your bulge is stirring to lazy attention, satisfied with just rubbing itself against the sheets. At least his mouth is useful when he’s putting it towards something better than making you regret your ability to hear.

He’s started lapping at your gills—a shameful weakness of yours. You don’t fight how good it feels, though, not this time A little keen escapes you.

Encouraged, Mituna drips more wax. It’s reaching higher up your back. He hasn’t stayed in one spot, you suppose wanting to spread out the sensation. He’s certainly succeeding in sending that warmth through you. Acutely you can feel where the wax lays, hardening. Feel as he drips it almost in an arch across your shoulder blades before going back down on the other side of your spine. All throughout he keeps pressing kisses to your neck and fins, darts his tongue out against your tines, brushes knuckles against your cheek.

By the time he’s trailing the wax in another arch at the bottom you’re in pure bliss. Then it fucking hits you.

You sigh, pressing your forehead into the mattress. “You made your goddamn sign in vwax, didn’t you?”

Mituna’s self satisfied laughter is your answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear tomorrow's won't be just a punchline lmao.


	3. Blind Devwotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **oral sex** | role reversal | **sensory deprivation** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck I love dualcro and will one day write more of it. Ship needs more love.

You can’t see a single thing, you have no idea where your partner is or what he’s doing, and it’s _exhilarating_. Maybe he’s appraising you with hungry eyes, maybe he’s getting whatever he plans on using tonight. You gave him free rein so you have no idea what’s going to happen. You’re fully in the dark.

Naked save for the silk tied around your eyes, you’re kneeling on a large plush pillow that’s protecting you from the hard wood of the floor. Your hands are at your sides, plucking at the pillow with nervous energy; you’re drowning in anticipation.

“You’re such a pretty sight.”

Your fins flutter at the comment. You adore when he tells you stuff like that. It means something _special_ coming from him—Captain Cronus Ampora, your Alternian counterpart. The guy is fucking _hot_, so when he says you look good you believe it.

Part of you wishes you could see him right now, but you resist the urge to peek. Mostly because now that he’s spoken you know where he is roughly, the doorway, and that he’s watching you. Your fingers itch to touch him. You rub the tips over the pillow to try and satisfy that urge but it does little to help.

Bootfalls approach you. Your fins perk up and you turn towards him as he stops in front of you, getting down on your level. His breath tickles your neck and you bare it for him. He peppers it with soft, featherlike kisses, and you sigh.

Then you jerk in surprise as his hand runs up your thigh. You settle quickly, enjoying his purposeful touch. He starts massaging your inner thigh while his other hand goes up to your opposite hip, thumb rubbing circles there. Just as you’re getting used to that his tongue flits across your gills and they flare out in appreciation.

Right now your whole world is his mouth and fingers, and it’s _spectacular_.

“Can I touch you?”

His chuckle goes right through you, making your nook clench on nothing.

“Go ahead, swveetheart.”

Eagerly you reach out, overshooting and bumping against his chest. You fumble a bit trying to push past all the goddamn clothes he’s wearing. He doesn’t help you out, either, sucking and nipping at your neck. Eventually though you manage to get your hands on bare skin. He’s way more muscular than you. Not Zahhak levels of beefcake, but you know for a fact he can lift you over one shoulder like it’s nothing. It’s fucking _hot_.

You find his grubscars. Just like yours his are sensitive, and you grin at his sharp intake of breath when you give them a quick pinch.

“Little brat.”

You snicker which quickly turns to a gasp as a claw drags across your thigh to your nook lips before teasing them open and wiggling carefully inside. He coils it up towards your bone bulge while his other hand starts stroking it, and soon you unsheathe. The second your bulge hits the air it’s being tugged up to full length. You groan, back arching which makes the finger inside of you brush a new spot that sends a fresh jolt of arousal through you.

Without your sight all your other senses really have heightened like he’d told you it would. This is far from the first time he’s fingered you, but it feels like a new experience. When he pushes a second finger in you a steady trill starts up in the back of your throat. Even just the way he’s slowly curling his fingers is so _much_.

You groan, grabbing onto his sides while he starts stretching you. He takes his time, pumping and wiggling against the spots he knows really get you going. His other hand plays with your bulge, rubbing along its length or thumbing the tip. His mouth, meanwhile, is back to peppering you with kisses from chest to neck to fins to your cheek before finally claiming your lips. You’re breathing heavy, already close. He didn’t give you any order to not pail yet so you don’t try to fight it. Coming won’t end the night early, either—he’s intent on making this a long session no matter what.

When he pulls back he tells you, “Come for me, darling.”

His fingers speed up and he strokes your bulge. As pleasure crescendos your forehead falls against his shoulder and you ride out your orgasm. It’s _intense_. You talks to you through it, cooing and complimenting, telling you how gorgeous you are dripping with slurry. You feel his lips against your temple and chirp.

After a moment he pulls out of you. He’s still got hold of your bulge, though, refusing to let it resheathe. You feel him move like he’s wiping his slurry covered hand on something—the pillow, probably—before it’s gently petting your hair.

“Feeling good?”

You answer by trilling. It makes him chuckle, brushing against a horn. He lets you recover a moment before easing you on your back and producing another pillow to lay under your head. Putting up no resistance, you just bask in the gentle attention. He kisses down your body, knuckles brushing across your grubscars. Then he reaches your bulge that’s been gently undulating against your right thigh and kisses it, too.

You reach out, grabbing at empty air a moment until you thread your fingers against his soft hair. Unlike you he doesn’t product up unless it’s a special occasion, and gleefully you run your hand through it. For a little bit he lets you indulge as he kisses and drags his tongue across your bulge’s length, getting it excited again.

After a bit, though, he lifts his head and orders, “Hands above your head, Cronus.”

A whine escapes you, fins drooping. He pats your hip.

“Don’t be like that, swveetheart. Just vwant you to focus on vwhat I’m doing.”

“Only because I knowv you’ll make it vworth my vwhile.”

“Sigh. I’vwe spoiled you too much.”

“I deservwe it.”

He hums, and then his mouth is right at your nook. You make a needy little sound, and your hips buck up. He holds them steady before spreading your thighs and settling between them. You can imagine his smirk and hungry eyes like a shark about to devour a helpless fish. It’s an image that’s burned into your mind from seeing it so many times. You’ve memorized it well, because it’s a damn good sight, and you’re glad you can conjure it up now even if you can’t see it first hand.

For a moment you lay there in anticipation, playing with the edge of the pillow. There’s no warning when his tongue darts out across your nook lips, lapping at the slurry there and around it. He holds your hips steady when you start squirming.

Your world currently boils down to a very talented and adamant tongue that pushes its way in and wiggles about. He draws out all sorts of sounds from you, pants and moans and begging. Vaguely you’re aware when you bulge wraps around one of his horns, tugging him further towards you, and his chuckles shoot through your nook. You become completely lost in the sensations, mounting pleasure eruption through you, and he doesn’t let up even after you’re coming into his mouth.

He licks you clean while you pant and trill, fins flapping wildly. When he’s done he gathers you in his arms and lifts you. To the bed you realize when he settles down, keeping you against his chest. He doesn’t undo the blindfold though it doesn’t much matter; you’re too exhausted to open your eyes right now. You sigh happily, tilting your head and offering your mouth. He understands what you want, pressing your lips together.

When he breaks away he tells you, “Rest for a minute, swveetheart. You’re going to need it.”

You grin, nuzzling against his chest.


	4. Carvwing Fuck O’ Lanterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **femdom** | a/b/o| **begging** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, me doing pornus? Who could have ever imagined.
> 
> Also this one has unexpected pet play.

Porrim walked into their hive, instantly raising an eyebrow at the, quite frankly, carnage.

“What are you up to, Cronus?”

He turned to her, grinning, knife up in his hand.

“Vwelcome hivwe, Porrim. I’m pumpkin carvwing.”

“Ah. Well that...doesn’t actually clarify things.”

“It’s a human tradition. You’re supposed to carvwe faces into pumpkins then put a candle in them. Then you set them outside for Hallowveen.”

“I see. I do recall Kanaya’s matesprit talking about this old earth celebration,” she said, coming over to see his work. “I like the part about dressing up.”

“Vwe should havwe matching costumes.”

She laid her chin on his shoulder, peeking over at the pumpkin. It was simple but cleanly done, mouth open and round. Screaming, she imagined.

“Mm, only if our skirts are the same length. Nice face.”

“Mine or his?” he joked. Porrim kisses his fin, making them flutter.

“Both are very lovely.”

“Just vwait, I gotta put the finishing touch on it.”

Cronus reached into his sylladex and pulled out a ball gag. She watched in a strange mixture of disbelief and unsurprise as he nestled the ball into the pumpkin’s mouth then secured it.

“ Vwoilà.”

Porrim snorted despite herself. Holding a hand up to her mouth she told him, “Amazing, Cronus. I’m sure no one else will make a pumpkin quite like it.”

He beamed, fins raised giddily.

“I’m gonna get a candle and put him out nowv.”

She stepped back and gave him a look that instantly made him pout.

“Cronus we can’t put out a pumpkin with a sex toy in it.”

“Vwhy not?”

“I can’t believe you have to honestly ask that.”

“Come on, Porrim, I vworked hard on him!”

“And he’s very good, Cronus, but he’s not going on our porch.”

He opened his mouth to keep arguing. Porrim switched to Dom Mode, voice going stern.

“Cronus.” His fins pinned back in submission. “We are not putting this pumpkin outside with a ball gag in its mouth.”

He let out a whine but didn’t complain. Porrim softened, but didn’t drop her air of authority as she took his chin between her finger and thumb.

“We can display your pumpkin in here, and have all our friends over to see. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Cronus just continued to pout, looking up at her through his eyelashes. He was so pitiful it tugged at her pump biscuit strings, but she held firm.

“Cronus, I’m waiting for an answer.”

“Yeah, I guess. But vwhat if we had a Halloween party and sent out invwitations vwith my pumpkin on them? Can vwe do that?”

It took all her will not to laugh. Allowing herself a smile she replied, “We can do that. But when Kankri comes to lecture us you’re going to sit through the whole thing yourself.”

“Vworth it.”

Porrim snickered, pulling him forward for a quick peck on the forehead.

“Alright, now be a good boy for me and clean up your mess. Afterwards you can have a reward.”

That piqued his interest. He nodded and hurriedly tidied his workspace. At least he’d had sense enough to put a couple towels down on the floor and table that had captured most of the pumpkin innards.

“Cronus?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Did you go out and buy a ball gag just for this pumpkin?”

He flashed her a grin. “I vwasn’t gonna use one of mine.”

She scratched between his horns before gently pushing him towards the kitchen.

While he threw the innards away and washed the knife he’d used, Porrim cleared a prominent spot on the movie shelf for it. Mentally she was debating on how the night would go. Hopefully Cronus would behave; she wanted to play with a good boy tonight.

He came back in with a wet rag for the table. With a smile she went over and ran a hand up his spine, enjoying his little shudder.

“Good boy, Cronus. When you finish up here go undress and choose any toys you want, then come back to me.” She leaned over, mouth against his fin, and added, “Don’t take too long.”

Cronus moves at the speed of horniness as she liked to call it; he only hustled like this when sex was on the horizon. Chuckling, she got comfortable on the couch. She didn’t have to wait long. He came bounding down the stairs two at a time and practically threw himself onto his knees at her feet. Eyes wide and eager, he placed what he’d brought in her lap.

“Since it’s the season for dressing up and evwerything I figured you could dress me up a little.”

“Tis the season,” Porrim agreed, holding up the thin collar. The name tag, shaped like a pump biscuit, jangled.

Cronus lowered his head so she could fasten it around his neck just the right way so it wouldn’t irritate his gills. Then she took the horn adornments he’d brought out, too: a couple of jade and violet ribbons with bells tied throughout them. He rested his chin on her knee as she threaded them around his horns, flicking the little bells when she was done and smiling at the sound.

“Alright, pretty boy, over my lap so I can get your tail in.”

The tail was simple curved silicone attached to a plug. She enjoyed its elegant simplicity, though had toyed with the idea of having a Zahhak make a mechanical one that wagged. Maybe for his wriggling day.

“Snug?” she asked after lubing his wastechute and getting the plug in there.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Porrim squeezed his ass, grinning to herself.

“Does my pretty puppy want to properly apologize for being bratty before?”

“_Please_, ma’am.”

He glanced back with those round, begging eyes. She tapped his upper thigh, signaling him to get down. He did, eagerly situating himself between her legs when she parted them. Watching her to make sure he was doing good, he started inching up her dress.

“I liked your alliteration,” he told her. She scratched his head, offering him a smile.

Porrim leaned back and sighed as Cronus lapped at her nook lips. His tongue was as nimble as his fingers. In no time her bulge spilled out, wrapping around his left horn and jingling a few bells. He looked so good like this.

She caught sight of the pumpkin staring at them and had to stifle her laughter. God Cronus was ridiculous. Ridiculous, and so adorable.

Cronus watched her from the tops of his eyes as he ate her out. His tail may not have been able to wag but his fins certainly picked up the slack. They sped up the more she moaned, grabbing onto his other horn and pushing his face forward, making him go as deep as he could and fins slap against her thighs.

Porrim threw her head back as she pailed. Cronus pulled out after a moment only to lap at the slurry on her lips. She let him indulge for a moment before tugging him off. Then, pulling him by the horn, she got him back in her lap, straddling her hips. His bulge was out and it found hers, pressing against it imploringly.

“Vwas that good?”

“Mm, very good,” she cooed, scratching his chin. He chirped. “Did I earn a treat?”

“Puppies don’t get treats just for being good at apologizing,” she snorted.

His shoulders sagged, fins wiggling sadly as he gave his best begging eyes. Cronus even whined for good measure.

“You’re so spoiled.”

“If I‘m so spoiled then vwhy don’t I get a treat?”

“We’re not turning this into a sexual catch-22, Cronus.”

“Catch-69.”

She playfully bopped his nose.

“Bad.”

“Bad enough to get bulges dowvn?”

“You’re insatiable, Cronus.”

“Please? I swvear I’ll be on my best behavwior from nowv until the party.”

“Meaning you’re going to be _terrible_ at the party.”

Whining pitifully, he nuzzled against her cheek and kept up those sad eyes. Finally Porrim sighed in defeat.

“You bratty, spoiled puppy. Alright, get on your back, Cronus. And if you’re a very good puppy for the rest of the evening, tomorrow I’ll go out and get us some more pumpkins, and you can carve whatever you want on them. But one has to be respectable enough to go outside.”

“Yes, ma’am!“ he readily agreed, hopping off and obeying. Porrim couldn’t help smiling.


	5. An Ass You Can't Just Take In Stride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **anal play** | clothes on | glory hole |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally writing some crodirk :D

Cronus has wanted this _bad_ for a long fucking time. Presented with it, though, knowing he can and is expected to fulfill his dream is actually a little daunting.

Damn, though, Dirk has a nice ass.

Dirk’s naked and on his stomach, ass presented to him on a pillow. It’s a tasty fucking sight. He’s just lying there, chin resting on his crossed arms waiting. Cronus doesn’t want to keep him in suspense any longer but can’t help it. He wants to do this all right. Just, gotta figure out where to start it.

Fuck, might as well just dive right in.

Cronus reaches out and squeezes Dirk’s asscheeks, grin spreading across his face. They feel so good. He could just sit here and knead them like a fucking cat. Probably shouldn’t, though. But it’s tempting. And he’s not being pushed away! Fucking _nice_.

He should get this show on the road, though, before he fucks it up and loses the chance.

“You ready, chief?”

“I’m the prince of ready. My ass is a ship waiting to be boarded. Just grease the decks, captain.”

Wow okay, kinda hot being called captain. Was that why on Alternia he became one? Smart guy.

“You got it.”

“If you’ve got any questions just let me know.”

“Just lie there and look pretty, chief. I got this.”

Cronus punctures the assured declaration with the snap of his latex glove. It isn’t just for his benefit; turns out Dirk just has a mild latex kink. He either found or had a set specially made to match Cronus’ blood color because he’s pretty extra like that.

Actually Cronus digs the feel. It’s way different than skin-on-skin contact, adds an extra little flavor to this new experience. Feeling a surge of confidence, he grabs the lube.

After coating his gloved fingers Cronus takes a moment to stare at Dirk’s ass again, half in appreciation and half in contemplation. Then, afraid of Dirk commenting on his hesitation, he spreads his cheeks and presses a finger to Dirk’s human wastechute. Asshole, that’s what it’s called. Kind of an on the nose term.

He’s only ever done this to his own so the different angle is strange, but easier. It’s fascinating to watch his finger disappear, meeting only his body’s natural resistance before Dirk relaxes with a grunt. He wants this just as badly as Cronus, if the whole situation is to be believed; Cronus had almost thought it was a joke when Dirk actually responded to his flirting, but here they are. Cronus is pretty sure if he was being led on or mocked the punchline would have dropped before he got a finger wiggling in the guy’s ass.

“Howv’s this feeling?”

Dirk turns his head, presumably to gaze back at him; a little hard to tell with those shades on. It’s pretty sexy, though, so Cronus doesn’t mind.

“No complaints here, dude. You’re doing great. Don’t be afraid of hurting me. I’m way more resilient than I look, even if Rose has insinuated I’m the Prince of Twinks.”

“Vwhat’s a twvink?”

“More like you. I teeter towards twunk.”

Pretending like he isn’t even more confused, Cronus hums. He’ll figure that stuff out later, best to just take one thing at a time and he’s more interested in his original task. His free hand squeezes one of Dirk’s cheeks as he presses a second finger in him. Dirk’s really opened up for him and it doesn’t take much force to get it in there. Then he starts slowly pumping, figuring he’s doing a good job by the slight hitch in Dirk’s breath.

“I don’t need much to get me ready, especially since your bulge is self lubricated—hot, by the way. Also convenient. But feel free to take as much time as you want and have fun.”

Now that he can do, and does. He’s feeling more confident as he goes, enjoying himself and Dirk’s subtle reactions. The way his fingers flex against the sheets, how his mouth parts in a silent gasp, the few beads of sweat on the back of his neck. The guy is pretty reserved so each action is like its own little victory before the big prize at the end.

While it’s fun for a bit, his bulge is squirming desperately for attention. He resists touching himself, both not wanting to stop any contact he’s got with Dirk and not wanting to accidentally pail before he gets in him. That would be like dying all over again but even worse.

“Mind if I, uh, movwe this along?”

“Yeah dude.” The words are a little smooshed. Raising his head a fraction Dirk continues, “Captain dude. Have at it, all aboard. Let’s batten down the hatches and get this ship sailing.”

Eagerly Cronus pulls out and snaps his glove off before grabbing Dirk’s hips. He lifts them enough to get a good angle, barely catching Dirk’s whispered _fucking hot_ which makes his face warm and fins wiggle delightedly. Grinning, he coaxes his bulge towards Dirk’s wastechute. It wiggles its way inside. Cronus tries going slow, savoring the tight heat enveloping his bulge, but Dirk groans and suddenly it’s hard to not just sink inside him right away. After a minute he does bottom out, pelvis pressed against Dirk’s plump rump, and Cronus pauses to catch his breath.

“Doing good back there?” Dirk asks, a bit of pant to his voice.

“_Vwonderful_. Just, you knowv.” He swallows. “Tell me if I’m not doing it right.”

“I’m not too worried about that, trust me. I think you’ve got it from here. Go at whatever pace you want, Cronus. Trust me when I say I’m enjoying myself.”

“Me too.”

His bulge starts squirming again. It can’t thrash around like inside a nook, there’s not enough room and it’s so much _tighter_. It feels good, though, good in a way Cronus couldn’t have imagined before now. He can’t just stay like that, though; Dirk told him all about the prostate—something trolls don’t have—so he’s gotta treasure hunt. Apparently it’s not very deep? Cronus isn’t exactly sure; for all their similarities there are enough differences between their species that he doesn’t quite get all the anatomy.

Not that he’s complaining. Cronus is prepared to rise to the challenge no matter its depths. Just gotta try not to pail prematurely. He wants Dirk to feel as good as he does. Prove he’s not just some inexperienced numbskull and give the guy reason to come back. Cronus definitely hopes he can do this again.

He starts to rock, urging his bulge further. He keeps an eye on Dirk, notices the way his fists ball into the sheets. Hell yeah. Encouraged, he reaches around to gently stroke Dirk’s human dick. It’s mostly dry which is unnerving at first, but then his fingers brush against the tip that’s leaking a little and Cronus rubs it. Dirk pushes back against him with a needy sound.

“Fuck, you’re doing great. Just like that, man. Keep going.”

He does, moving Dirk’s hips a little for a different angle and asking, “This good?”

A low grunt is his response.

Fuck, Cronus is getting real close. Mentally he begs his bulge to hold out just a bit longer. Squeezing Dirk’s hips he grinds against them, picking up speed. He must have done something right because suddenly Dirk’s gasping and telling him _right there right there_. So Cronus concentrates on the spot and keeps it up until his hand is covered in a hot, sticky substance and Dirk sags against the bed. That’s all Cronus needs to pail, too. Slurry runs down his thighs, coats Dirk’s.

It takes so much effort to not just collapse on top of Dirk, instead pulling out and lying beside him. Then Cronus can’t resist inching just a little closer to cuddle in a way he deems casual. Dirk doesn’t push him away, giving a breathy laugh and holding his hand up for a high-five that Cronus returns. He doesn’t think to use the hand without human slurry on it.

“Vwhoops.”

“Nice.” Dirk halfheartedly wipes it on the sheet. “If you ever wanna do this again—”

“Yes!” Cronus coughs as Dirk quirks an eyebrow. Attempting to save face he adds, “Sure, yeah, if you’re evwer cravwing more of the Ampora treatment call me up. I’ll rock your vworld vwhenevwer.”

“Sounds good, dude. One of us needs to get a towel, though, because there is troll jizz dribbling out of my ass.”


	6. Evwery Captain Needs A Vwessel And A Treasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | feet | hierophilia/religious | **thigh riding** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself love Nepeta/Dualscar so much and I remain the only one to ever write it whoops lmao
> 
> This also includes some age and size difference.

Honestly you could just watch Nepeta all day, no need to actually pail. It’s more than enough to see the flush on her face, the flutter of her eyelids as she tries to keep them open and locked with your intense gaze. To have your earfins filled with her delicious sounds—a steady pant interspersed with the occasional chirp or gasp. Her desperate cries for you.

“Captain!”

Yes, this is all you need.

“You’re doing so good, kitten,” you praise, leaning over and brushing your lips against her jaw. She moans, tilting her head to give you access to her neck.

Both of you are nude. Your legs are spread so she has the room she needs to thrust against your thigh. While her bulge desperately slaps against your thigh with her movements, trying to find its own friction, yours is content to curl against your abdomen, the tip slithering back and forth in lazy interest. You have one hand on the small of Nepeta’s back, a way to steady and encourage her. Hers have been roaming your body. At first she’d had them thrown over your shoulders as she thrusted, then they’d moved down to your hips, gripping them firmly as she rocked. Right now they’re on your upper thigh, right above her leaking nook.

Mostly you’ve just been watching her, sprinkled in with some praise and a bit of teasing. Dragging your claws down her chest, nipping at her ear, squeezing her grubscars. Ignoring her bulge no matter how hard she whines. She’s such a gorgeous sight and sound both.

“_Please_, Captain.”

“Please vwhat, swveetheart?” you chuckle against the skin of her taunt neck. “Use your vwords.”

“Mew know what I want,” she huffs, irritation lost to the heavy arousal hanging off every word.

“Perhaps, but I do lovwe hearing you say it.”

“Please let me pail meow, captain.”

Ten minutes ago she would have just called you a sadist and refused to give in, just do the work herself rubbing against your thigh. Nepeta’s so close now, though, it’s obvious. She just needs a little more to finally pail. You’re torn between helping her out or making it harder just so this can last a bit longer. Ultimately though you can’t resist those needy eyes, her begging keen. You have to give in to your kitten.

“Alright, swveet thing, you’vwe definitely earned it.”

“Yeah I have!”

You laugh before claiming her lips with your own. You taste the trill that starts up in the back of her throat. Matching it, you take her hands and guide them back to your waist, pushing her further up your thigh. She grabs on, and you don’t think she realizes how tight her grip is. Impressive muscles are hidden in her sleek huntress frame. When she gains a bit more height from her final molt you’re positive she’ll be able to pick you up with ease. You can’t wait.

She’s close enough now for her bulge to reach out and find yours, nudging it like a meowbeast vying for affection. Your bulge supplies it, uncurling and wrapping around hers. Nepeta _whimpers_. It’s a beautiful sound that makes your stomach flip with arousal.

You grab one of her horns, squeezing at the hornbed, and push her imploringly. She catches the hint, picking up speed as she rocks her nook against your thigh. You tilt her forward just a little bit more, make sure she’s got the perfect angle to find the friction she needs. It doesn’t take much longer before she spills all over your lap. She breaks the kiss, head turning to the side as she gasps, so you press your lips to her neck again.

You’re close yourself, and start pumping the base of your bulge until you’ve added a bucket’s worth of purple to the olive coating you both.

Nepeta lets out a breathy laugh, head falling to your chest and whole body relaxing in your hold. You wrap your arms around her, leaning you both back. Hair has fallen into her face, plastered by sweat to her cheek, and you push it behind an ear.

“Captain?”

“Mm, yes kitten?”

“Mew are a furicking sadist.”

Smirking you reply, “_Purr_haps, but you’re too pretty to go easy on.”

She makes an exaggerated groan before nestling closer to you, not caring about all the slurry.


	7. Don’t Reflect On It For Too Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **praise kink** | watersports | **mirror sex** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven dualsumm fics before this one and the last was in 2016 can you believe that? I mean probably lmao but still.

Rufioh sucks on the fingers Cronus shoves in his mouth, a bit of saliva dribbling down the corner of his mouth. He catches sight of it before feeling it, too much else going on to notice something as minuscule as that.

There’s a bulge in Rufioh’s nook and a ringed hand reaching around him to pump his own. The metal is as cold as Cronus’ skin. Cronus is draped across his back, pinning his wings between them. Rufioh both hates and loves the feeling—it’s like a form of bondage, his wings trapped like this. Then there’s his mouth which has been all over his body, leaving trails of kisses and gentle bites, but is now against Rufioh’s ear whispering things that leave him shuddering.

“Keep your eyes open.”

Rufioh obeys, wishing he could blame it on his cavalreaper training; the way his nook clenches is a dead giveaway of the truth, however. He stares straight ahead, and his own eyes stare back. Then he catches Cronus’ gaze and it’s so _intense_. He swallows hard and looks away, focuses on something else. Like how fucking debauched he looks. And feels. And _is_.

The mirror is large enough to belong to the Condesce herself. It’s set up right across from his platform, tiled this way a little for the best view. This is not the first time Rufioh’s had his bulge out in front of it, but it’s always been by himself. A solo shameful secret until now. He’d been mortified when Cronus first saw it, but then the vain bastard had seemed into it and, well, here they are. Rufioh kneeling on his concupiscent platform watching his reflection get fucked.

It’s seriously fucking hot.

“Look how pretty you are,” he says, and Rufioh’s wings flap as much as they can pressed down by Cronus’ weight. “You’re doing vwonderful, so good. Just keep vwatching.”

Rufioh trills, locking eyes with his reflection again.

He sees Cronus’ mouth move down to his neck, feels his tongue lapping at his skin. He bites down suddenly, fondling his bulge in a way that makes it twitch eagerly. Rufioh moans around the fingers in his mouth.

“You’re doing so good Rufioh.” Cronus presses his lips to his jaws, hand squeezing his bulge just enough to be more pleasurable than painful. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

He whines desperately, pitifully, and nods. Rufioh catches Cronus’ smirk before he starts pumping his fingers in and out of his mouth in messy rhythm with what he’s doing to his bulge.

“You look good like this, Rufioh. From evwery angle. I lovwe this sight. Come on, gorgeous, pail for me. Vwanna see you come undone.”

Rufioh keens, arching back against his chest. His eyelids flutter and it takes so much effort to keep watching as he pails hard. Cronus doesn’t stop talking even though his voice is quickly becoming strained, bulge thrashing with wild abandon inside Rufioh’s nook. He can hardly make sense of the words, but the meaning is clear and he lets out a steady trill at all the praise. Soon enough his nook is filled with slurry, seedflap greedily trying to take in as much as it can.

Cronus doesn’t immediately pull out, chin resting heavy on Rufioh’s shoulder and bulge limp inside him. It tries to slither back out, brushing against Rufioh’s oversensitive nerves and causing him let out a small sound of discomfort around the fingers still in his mouth. This gets Cronus to finally ease out. He lays down at the head of the bed, pulling Rufioh with him, and chuckles.

“You knowv, the first time I called you pretty boy it vwas supposed to be an insult, but here vwe are.”

Fuck this fish for being so hot.


	8. Slurryfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **bukakke** | **face sitting** | masturbation/solo |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crodam is fun to write, I gotta do more some time

Damara hadn’t been kidding when she said she’d figure out how to shut you up. Luckily it wasn’t by putting her cigarette out on you this time. Instead she used her nook—one of her most valuable assets in your humble opinion. Coincidentally, in your no need to be humble opinion, your most valuable asset is your tongue.

You’re putting it to good use right now as Damara sits on your face, slurry a waterfall down your chin and knees squeezing your fins. A while ago your gills had to start taking in air because no way is she letting you up. She’s got a singular goal in mind and that doesn’t take into account your personal well-being. She didn’t even bother with any foreplay before mounting your face! A guy doesn’t mind a little action, but it would have been a nice gesture. You’re both still clothed, too, her skirt over your eyes so you don’t even get to see how you’re affecting her.

At least you can hear it. Damara’s not shy about being vocal. She’s got a tight grip on your horns as she gasps and lets out a steady stream of curses in East Beforan. Your hearing’s a bit muffled but you can make out enough to know she’s enjoying herself. In Damara speak “you slutty fishfuck bitch boy” is the equivalent of “right there, you’re doing so good”. It also means she’s calling you a slutty fishfuck bitch boy, but that’s the underlining meaning.

Either way it really motivates you. Squeezing her ass, you push her further against your mouth, wiggling your tongue in rhythm to a song in your head. If she knew that she’d mock you but the joke’s on her because it’s getting her off. Her bulge had spilled out after hardly any time, slapping at your face in uncomfortable victory, and her nook is _soaked_. She’s close. You’re determined to make her pail so hard she sees the furthest ring.

Her cries are getting louder and she’s calling out your name—rather, the different terms of endearment she calls you: fishfuck, sad bitch, mouthy slut. It’s a good sign. Her bulge is thrashing and you have to clench your eyes shut to protect them from slurry. She rocks hard against your mouth, yanking on your horns and rattling your fucking pan. So worth it.

Slurry gushes out and you swallow to keep from gagging. She goes still minus the slight tremor of her legs, panting hard. You stroke her thighs for a bit, but when she doesn’t get up you decide to just keep eating her out. You suppose you could just toss her off or something, but her surprised keen is satisfying. Damara starts speaking rapidly, too fast for you to get a good grip of what she’s saying, but it sounds horny and desperate—which is how you prefer her sounding, so. Way better than her default horny and angry.

When she gets close you can feel her nook clenching again and prepare to swallow another onslaught of slurry. Instead she suddenly stands up. You crack an eye open in time to see her grab her bulge. Then with two quick strokes she’s squirting slurry all over your face and you hurriedly shut them again. Your face is coated like a cheap beauty mask.

“You make good bucket. Pretty all used like little sexy fish slut.”

Your fins flutter because a compliment is a compliment and you like being called pretty or sexy no matter the context. You take what you can get. Speaking of.

“You’re gonna get me off nowv, right? And maybe a fucking towvel?”

“I get you a nipple to bite and suck so you stop talking again. Like you better silent.”

You note that she didn’t say no.


	9. Vwho Needs A Vwiolet Vwand Vwhen You Havwe A Psionic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **electrostimulation** | fisting | nipple play |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on vacation so these will be coming out slower for a bit whoops.

Cronus sighed, leaning back against his partner’s bare chest. He felt as Mituna rested his chin between his horns, hands wrapping around him. Idly he ran them along Cronus’ sternum down to his hips then back around his grubscars and gills. Cronus let his eyes close, content for the moment. Anticipation was bubbling just under the surface, however, and when Mituna spoke it jumped to life.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready and revwvwing, chief.”

“Alright. Just lay back against me and relax.”

Cronus hummed and obeyed. He couldn’t help a trill of excitement as Mituna slowly trailed his fingers back up to his neck. There he sent out a spark of psionics—small to start off with, so faint they barely registered. Like a spark of static shock.

This was far from the first time they’d ever used psionics during sex. Tonight was different, though. It was all about psionics. Cronus has been looking forward to this since Mituna had suggested it a few weeks ago. Honestly, the thought of pailing from psionics stimulation solely was pretty tantalizing. Especially when it was the hottest psionic to have ever lived, died, then lived again.

Mituna ran his fingers around to Cronus’ neck gills, psionics crackling above the sensitive slits. He moaned, head tilting back to give him more access. Mituna chuckled.

“Pretty eager for this, huh?”

Fins flicking Cronus replied, “You vwould be too if you vwere me.”

“Hey, I’m plenty eager for my end.”

He punctuated his point by sending a quick but powerful jolt to his gills and Cronus gasped. Mituna chuckled again, cheek nuzzling against one of his horns.

Returning to low levels, Mituna roamed leisurely down his body. He purposefully skirted around his bone bulge and nook, ignoring Cronus’ whine.

Leisurely he teased Cronus, touching and shocking nerves around without directly contacting his genitals. It was _maddening_. Steadfastly, stubbornly, Mituna refused to give in to Cronus' little whimpers or cajoles.

Mituna trailed back to his grubscars, psionics picking up just a notch. It wasn't painful, but definitely noticeable. Cronus chirped.

"Heh, I assume that means you're still into this."

"Fuck yeah, babe, don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He ghosted over the gills at his abdomen, making Cronus shiver. Fuck this felt so good. His bulge was swelling in its sheath while his nook was already getting slick. Mituna kept ignoring those, however, pressing fingertips against bare skin, intensifying the psionic contact, and continuing back up. He traced along the tines of his fins; Cronus' breath hitched. Then he brought them further up, scratching at his scalp before reaching his horns. There he took his time, slowly massaging his hornbeds while psionics danced across his horns themselves. Cronus leaned further back against his partner, a needy trill escaping him.

After a bit he eased back down, sending the occasional sharp shock randomly to some part of him. There didn't seem to be any pattern that Cronus noticed, but then again he was starting to bliss out as he willingly let the sensations envelope him.

Mituna reached his pelvis and rubbed down along his inner thighs. With a groan Cronus bucked, begging, "Come on, please just touch me already."

"I am touching you, Cronus. That's the whole point of this."

Self satisfied bastard placed an audible kiss to his right horn.

"You knowv vwhat I mean. Touch my nook, _please_. Or my bulge, I'm not picky."

"That's not even out yet. Which is a shame. We should change that."

Cronus nodded desperately. He was a little guilty when his horn smacked Mituna, but it wasn't like the guy wasn't enjoying this delicious torture. Which he proved as he sent psionics into Cronus' sheath. They tugged at his bulge and again he bucked, gasping. Mituna held him steady by the hip. He didn't let up until he'd pulled Cronus's squirming bulge to full length.

"There's your little instrument."

He sounded so fucking smug. It went straight to Cronus' nook that clenched on nothing.

"For the record, I call it that because—“

"Because you can play it like a fiddle, I knowv." Why did he find that snicker so infuriatingly hot? "Don't stop nowv, please Mituna."

"Mm, you sound so good when you're desperate." His other hand reached between his thighs _finally_, thumbing at the slurry dribbling out. Mituna spread it across his nook lips. "I think you're really enjoying this."

"You cracked the case, Sherlk Holmes." Cronus had meant for there to be more bite to his snark, but horny desperation softened it.

Still snickering, Mituna sent a quick and weak shock straight to his nook. It was enough to have Cronus cry out, back arching. Fuck, now that felt _good_.

"You good there, chief?" he asked, hint of concern in his voice. All around Cronus the psionics suddenly backed off; he instantly missed them.

"Don't stop nowv, fuck, _please_. Keep going, Mituna, please fucking keep going."

Past the point of caring, Cronus let all his desperation roll out. Thankfully Mituna heeded his pleas and the psionics grew in power. From his horns to the tips of his fins down to both sets of gills and grubscars he kept up a steady stream of mild psionics. He let Cronus adjust for a moment, rumbling with a purr that mingled with the psionics and heightened them.

Then with no warning electricity crackled around his bulge. Cronus moaned, arching back against him. This time psionics readjusted him, spreading his legs. Mituna pressed a fingertip into his nook and fired off another quick spark.

"Swveet fuck!"

"Ehehehe, yeah you are."

Cronus whined, trying to get that finger to go deeper but his hips were being held still.

"Shoosh, Cronus, I've got you. Just a little more, sweetbiscuit, you can handle it."

Fins wiggling wildly, Cronus nodded.

Mituna teased him some more, sending weak shockwaves through his nook here, a burst on the base of his bulge that traveled all the way up, a few randomly dispersed shocks to the rest of his body keeping him from lulling into a rhythm.

It was all getting to be _so much_. Mituna could tell. The shocks came more and more frequently, stronger, right into his nook. Cronus didn't last for much longer, pailing hard—too hard for words, too hard to even realize what was going on around him. There was just _bliss_.

He rode the high until it tapered off on its own and he slowly found himself cradled in Mituna's arms. Cronus gazed up at him with a dazed grin.

"That vwas hot."

Mituna laughed and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another rare pair I accidentally made myself fall in love with lmao.


	10. Daddy May Not Knowv Best But Damn Does He Knowv Howv To Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **nylons/tights** | **daddy/mommy kink** | **rimming** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't understand how I wrote 2.5k of this but here I am.

"Sup, daddy? I got pretty for you."

Dave had hardly given you the chance to step inside before that greeting. You close the door behind you and gaze over to the plush and elaborate human style bed you keep for him. There he is sprawled out in a way that's both provocative and innocent. That alone would be enough to get your attention, but what really has your bulge twitching with interest is his attire. He's dressed in nothing but nylon tights and one of your tunics that falls several inches longer on him. Even his ever present sunglasses are pushed down far enough for you to get a good look at his gorgeous red eyes.

"You're alwvays pretty, baby, but I certainly enjoy this sight."

He nods in a way that is supposed to seem aloof but you're well enough acquainted with to notice how pleased your response makes him.

"Daddy's done vwith meetings for the rest of the evwening," you tell him, shrugging off your jacket. "Are you staying vwith me?"

"I can kick it with you tonight, yeah. Don't want my daddy getting lonely, after all." As you sit down on the edge of the bed to undo your boots he drapes himself over your back, making himself comfortable. "What kind of guy neglects his daddy like that, right? some douchebag who definitely doesn't deserve one. Fuck that hypothetical guy. Can't even keep his daddy company. He—“

"Davwe," you interrupt calmly, "vwould you like me to kiss you?"

"That's a little gay, daddy. I dig it."

You turn enough to capture his lips before he can spew any more ridiculous nonsense. Readily he kisses back, though he lets you have more control, follows your lead.

Admittedly this was strange at first. He had to explain at great length about human fathers and what you are to him, a daddy. And you do mean _great_ length because the more nervous he is the more he rambles, and he'd been downright terrified. At one point there was a twenty minute long diatribe where he hadn't taken a single breath as he rambled about old traditional human family values and their portrayal in cinema. Also several asides about how he thought you were the troll equivalent of James Dean mixed with Sinbad.

Eventually you'd worked things out and, well, here you are. A daddy to an alien who just a few sweeps ago had been fighting to free his race from the last empress before both sections of the rebellion—humans and trolls—had joined forces to overthrow her. That was how you'd met him and, after working closely together, grew to love him.

His ass is _nice_ in these tights.

You reach around to get a good handful, kneading as your tongue wiggles into his willing mouth. He makes an encouraging sound, arms around your neck and just letting you grope and fondle as you please.

The things Dave craves most, and you feel dictate the majority of his actions, are attention and affection. He never directly asks for either, of course, dressing them up in innuendo and an aloof front—you steadfastly deny any such accusations about yourself. You are more than willing to play along and give him what he really wants.

"Did you get the tights just because you thought I'd like them?" you wonder, brushing your cheek against his and getting a good handful of fine ass.

"I stole them from Rose before she could wear them because she said—sorry, _insinuated_ that I didn't have the legs for them. Actually, fuck, wait. She was using reverse psychology on me, wasn't she?"

"Mm, probably. Remind me to thank her."

"Get her a date with tall, jade, and drop dead gorgeous."

"Noted. Come here."

It wasn't an order so much as a heads up before you pull him into your lap. He settles in, looking pleased, those glasses hanging off his nose.

"Let's get these off, baby. Vwouldn't vwant to accidentally damage them."

"Yeah, I'd hate to break Egbert's poor old heart. He couldn't take it."

You gently lift them from his face and place them on the daystand. He looks both more vulnerable and more open without them. The first time you'd seen him without them it had been because they were hit off his face during a mission you two had together. The second time was completely different, when you'd finally slept together. Back then he hadn't wanted to look you in the eyes when he'd taken them off, but now he readily does. He matches your steady gaze with something so earnest it makes your pump biscuit clench.

Stroking knuckles across his jaw you tell him, "I'm glad you vwisited me, baby. It's been too long since I got to properly hold you."

"I was over here two nights ago."

"A single second awvay from you is too long."

"Fuck."

A faint blush spreads across his face. Goddamn you're smooth. You lean down and he tilts his head back, wetting his lips. You don't kiss him though, just hover so tantalizingly close.

"Let me take care of you howv you deservwe, Davwe."

"Anything you want, daddy."

The response was breathy, soft. His eyes sparkle with a sort of awe, like he still can't wrap his pan around someone wanting to treat him like this. You finally press you lips together, trying to convey that, yes, someone does want to give him this treatment, to pamper and spoil and take care of him, and that someone is you.

His hand runs up your chest and finds the collar of your shirt, tangling fingers against the material. He tugs and you indulge him, pushing harder against him. Your own hands don't stay still. As your right roams across his tights, squeezing and rubbing, your other sneaks under the tunic to explore his bare skin. You really did miss this, both of you so busy lately that you've hardly had enough time together. You plan on enjoying this.

When you break apart so he can get a quick breath, Dave pants, "You'd be more comfortable with less on."

"Great idea, baby."

You go to pull your top off but he insists on doing it, pushing it up inch by inch and admiring every new bit of exposed skin. You return to stroking his legs, mindful of your claws so they don't snag on the nylon. Not that Rose is getting these back.

Finally he gets your top up but it snags on a horn and you have to help. Immediately he presses his cheek to your chest with a content sigh.

"You're so strong you could out wrestle Stretch Armstrong himself. Headlock that twisty fuck and get him to say uncle."

"I'm fine vwith just being a daddy."

Dave snorts, burying his face in your chest.

"You're hilarious. I mean it though, you're so fucking strong. It's hot when you just move me around like it's nothing, like I'm a feather duster and you're the maid trying to clean up before the rich asshole who lives there gets back and creates a whole new mess."

"You mean vwhen I movwe you around like this?"

With ease you lift him and flip him onto his back, straddling his hips before he has a chance to register the new position and placing a hand on either side of his head. He gazes up at you breathlessly.

"Yeah, that exactly."

The tunic rose up just enough that you can see how hard he is. You reach down and palm his erection, earning a pleasing gasp that has your own bulge swelling. It really won't take much more for you to unsheathe. You imagine what you'll do when it does. You imagine that fine fucking ass.

Why imagine when you can get your hands back on it, though?

You lift one of his legs over your shoulder, still fondling his dick. Your other hand runs down the length of his leg leisurely, enjoying the feel of the nylon and the shiver this elicits. When you reach his upper thigh your touch gets firmer and he groans.

"Davwe, daddy really likes howv you look in his clothes."

"Imagine me traipsing around in nothing but your clothes hanging off me, wearing your shirts like a nightgown and bringing back nineties fashion."

"A vwery good image. You should start vwearing something of mine all the time." You trace the curve of his ass. "I have a scarf that vwould look beautiful on you. Maybe one of my rings."

Completely red in the face Dave says, "Jesus, that's got a lot of meaning to humans."

"You can vwear something else, then. Vwhatever you vwant, baby."

"No no, I'm not opposed to wearing a promise ring, treat this like high school sweethearts in a Lifetime movie who only have eyes for each other."

You swoop down to give him a quick but biscuitfelt kiss. He tosses his arms around your neck. Then as you speak again it's peppered throughout with more, heated, kisses.

"I'll dig something out for you later, baby."

"It's fine, I've swiped a bunch of your stuff already. I turned one of your shirts into a pillowcase."

Your fins flutter in delight.

"Still, that scarf. I vwant to see you in it."

He hums into your mouth as you press them together again. for a while you just keep kissing and touching each other like that. His hands start roaming, too, stroking along your fins or squeezing your grubscars. You keep on enjoying your handful of firm ass. You want more, though, and eventually, once your bulge has slithered out and is trying to push itself free of your pants, you speak against his jaw.

"I'm going to turn you ovwer, darling, get at that swveet ass of yours. Just let daddy treat you right."

"No complaints here, big guy. Daddy. Light of my loins. Forget that last one."

"Forgotten," you chuckle then flip him over with one easy movement. He moans, hips canting back towards you.

You position him how you want—face down against the mattress and nylon clothed ass up. You can't help stroking and groping it, eating in the sight. Fucking gorgeous. Still you want more. Gently, not wanting to tear them, you pull the tights down over his ass. Just far enough so you can spread his cheeks before you drag your tongue across his hole.

"_Fuck_."

You keep on, pressing your tongue inside and earning a gasp that gets your bulge to finally pop your top button and wiggle out in search of attention. You ignore it momentarily, intent on your task.

Dave makes delicious and debauched sounds that spur you on. He babbles, too, of course, saying things that you cannot follow at all. At the center though is a meaning you fully understand: he's enjoying himself.

"Fuck, daddy, _please_. Please please, god I'm close. Please let me have your bulge, daddy."

Pulling back you tell him, "Not tonight, baby."

"What?"

"Next time. Don't vworry, daddy's still going to get you off."

"Hold the phone and set that bitch on silence because what the fuck? My sweet ass is right within your literal grasp and you're denying both yourself and me from enjoying it? That's fucked up, yo."

You squeeze his ass, both warning and reassurance, telling him, "If I fuck your ass you vwon't be able to vwalk tomorrowv, and I knowv you're busy."

"I'll cancel all my plans, daddy, come on. Those idiots in Hollywood can handle one day without me holding their hands and explaining a dozen times why I want the camera purposely unfocused during plot important conversations. I'll spend all night and day with you, daddy, please."

"As tempting as that is, I knowv us and I knowv our vwicious cycles. I fuck your ass tonight, you stay tomorrowv and I let you cajole me into doing it again. Then a vweek's passed and both our palmhusks are blowving up. Next time, baby, I promise."

"Damn your voice of reason."

"That's vwhy I'm the daddy and you're my swveet boy, vwho I vwill make it up to."

"How can a guy say no to that?"

"If you vwere in a bratty mood you easily could."

"Well color me corrected. But I'm not a brat tonight, daddy, I'm all yours. Whatever you think is best. Even if it means you don't get that Grade A Plus bulge in my fine ass."

Dave is always so hard to deny, especially as he juts his ass back pointedly, but you swallow and hold strong. You also mentally go through your schedule figuring out what's not as important as fucking that sweet ass. You're half tempted to message Kankri later and tell him you're taking time off. Say it's for the benefit of the troll/human allegiance. 

"Stay and look pretty, baby, daddy's going to make you feel good."

"Done and done, daddy. And checkmark on the last one because you already made me feel _great_. Not that I'm passing on an opportunity to feel even better. Drop that bomb on me Doctor Feelgood."

Letting the reference you absolutely cannot parse fly by you, you work your pants down. Desperate yourself, you only bother getting them off one leg before kneeling behind Dave and pressing against his ass. Instantly your bulge slithers between his thighs. You guide it to his dick but don't even need to coax it before it wraps around Dave's on its own.

"God_damn_, daddy."

"That feel good, baby?"

"It feels great. I'm fucking dying I'm so close."

"I'vwe got you, swveetheart."

Your bulge pulsates around his and you take a moment to really appreciate how _good_ it feels. Could probably pail like this in no time. Priding yourself on being a good daddy, however, you aim to get Dave off first. He needs more, so you grab onto his hips and start rocking your own. It gets your bulge to tighten its grasp and move along with you. His breath hitches, fingers curling into the bed sheets, and eyes clench shut. Pleas fall from his pretty lips, become less and less comprehensible as you go.

You curse as he squirms, thighs clenching around your bulge. That extra friction is nearly enough to send you over the edge. It takes real force of will to keep yourself steady, reaching around to play with the tip of his cock as you start babbling as incoherently as him.

Dave tenses around you, _daddy_ on his lips as he comes. His hot human slurry sprays out; that's the final push and this time you don't hold back, pailing hard. For a good minute you bask in the afterglow.

You're resting heavily on Dave. He can handle it, of course, but you hurriedly pull back and get him into your lap again. He nestles against you, eyes half lidded and wordless. You smooth back hair and kiss his forehead.

You gaze at the violet mess soaking the nylon and chuckle. It may be Rose's color but she's really never getting these back now.


	11. A Good Vwiewv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **power bottom/service top** | threesome/group sex | **window/balcony sex** |

"Goddamn it, someone's going to see us."

"No one's around, swveetheart, I swvear. Nowv kiss me."

"I've kissed you plenty already, asshole."

"But not out here."

"Because anyone could see us!"

Cronus resisted the urge to groan. Karkat was too uptight.

It had been easy to coax him away from the party, easy to convince Karkat to let him into his room. Admittedly it hadn't been that difficult to get him out onto the balcony, either, but that was because Cronus had been sucking on his neck as he carefully guided him out. Unfortunately Karkat had realized where they were now.

To think, after everything Cronus had persevered and overcome—feeding a voracious horrorterror, becoming a well respected captain that struck fear on the sea, helping to bring the rebellion's victory to fruition—and this was his greatest battle.

"I'm going back inside, and you have twenty seconds to follow me back in without complaint or you'll only be getting off by your own hands, you colossal jackass."

As much as he adored Karkat ordering him around, Cronus caught his arm as he started past him. He came behind Karkat, wrapping his own arm around his waist and laying his chin on the crook of his shoulder, turning so his lips brushed his mutant gills.

"It's too beautiful a night to stay inside. The air is crisp--"

"We can keep the window open."

"The moons—“

"We can see them from the concupiscent platform."

"Perhaps, but then vwe miss the _thrill_. Come on, Karkat, no one's out here. They're all on the other end of the grounds enjoying the party."

"You really think we're the only ones who snuck off, you self centered prick?"

"No, but they snuck off for the same reasons as us, so anyone not at the party is vwell occupied."

Karkat didn't reply to that. Cronus' fins wiggled giddily; that was a sure sign he was breaking through Karkat's reservations and pushed a little more, hitting the nerve that had never failed him yet.

"Vwhy fight your desires, Karkat? Don't tell me you vwant to be a good little descendent for Kankri." Cronus straightened, hold suddenly laxing. "Of course, if that is the case, and you just vwant to make him proud, then vwho am I to—“

"You bulge guzzling son of a _bitch_," Karkat snarled, rounding on him.

Then he was smashing their lips together with enough force to make Cronus stumble back against the balcony railing. He wrapped his arms around Karkat with a delighted trill. _Victory_.

They kissed for a while with more heat than before. Cronus' hands roamed Karkat's body, undoing buttons and pulling down zippers. Carefully, of course; Maryam wrath was what they needed to watch out for.

Eventually they pulled back long enough that clothes could start to be discarded. He got Karkat topless first, pausing to get a good handful of those rumble spheres. Now these were proof that life wasn't all bad, not when something as perfect as these existed. Cronus squeezed and palmed them giddily, not holding back his grin.

"You're like a fucking wiggler."

"You lovwe it."

"Only because I'm a fool—_fuck_, god, yes."

Cronus, who had pinched both his nipples, smirked. He didn't ease up until Karkat was whimpering.

"It's only fools vwho lovwe, and that makes them all the vwiser. I am happily your fool."

"Fuck you for being so romantic, and fuck you for saying something that sweet after squeezing my goddamn nipples."

"I'm a complex troll."

"You're a fucking nuisance that should be putting his mouth to better use."

"Your vwish is my pleasure."

Cronus bowed low, one hand behind his back in the proper way of old, reveling in the eye roll that earned. Then he hoisted Karkat up, ignoring his squawk of protest, and sat him on the little bistro table he had out there beside the railing. If anyone did come by they’d get quite a view.

"I have a perfectly good chair right here, you know."

Cronus hummed, easing Karkat back so he could get at those rumble spheres. Any more complaints he might have had died as he braced himself on an open palm, moaning at the attention. Cronus took his time, nipping and running his tongue along their curves. God, Cronus adored Karkat's curves. Every single one.

Eventually Cronus went lower, giving his grubscars attention. They stood out so bright against the grey of his skin. That and Karkat's natural heat drove him wild. He couldn't help mouthing at them, then sucking along Karkat's hip line. Those damn slacks were in his way, though. He tugged them off with a flourish.

"Much better."

Cronus got down on his knees, spreading Karkat's legs and pressing kisses all along them. His bulge was already out, and Cronus made sure to place a kiss right on the wiggling tip. Karkat sighed, threading fingers through Cronus' hair.

"If my ancestor catches us—“

"I'll endure his lecture on proper public displays myself, you vwon't havwe to hear a vword."

"What a gentletroll."

"Vwe both knowv he'd be more upset vwith me anywvay."

"Maybe that's because you never keep your goddamn hands to yourself. He nearly had a conniption last week when he saw you hand feeding me fruit in the garden."

"That vwas his fault for barging in on a privwate moment."

"Public areas are not places for private moments."

"You're starting to sound like Kankri."

Karkat grabbed his horn and yanked him back, glaring at him with _fire_ in his eyes. Cronus' bulge swelled.

"You douchebag chucklefucking bulgeslut."

"But I'm _yours_."

Karkat's face was bright red. Delighted, Cronus turned to kiss his arm, not breaking eye contact. Gently Karkat guided him back to his thighs.

Cronus ran fingers along the underside of his right thigh, touch featherlight. Karkat sighed, thumb stroking his hornbed. It turned into a deep moan when Cronus pressed his mouth to Karkat's nook.

Getting a good hold on his thighs, Cronus wiggled his tongue inside. Karkat let out a bevy of beautiful sounds, chirps and gasps, little chitters, his name. When he cried it out Cronus' bulge finally spilled. Eagerly it searched for further freedom, forcing his zipper all the way down and squirming into the open air.

Karkat's was just as active. It had come out to full length, as well, and slapped imploringly against Cronus' mouth. He turned and blew on it teasingly. It gave an indignant jerk. Chuckling, Cronus shooed it off and it retreated. Soon as he refocused on Karkat's nook it zipped up towards his horn and got it in a vice as though afraid of being chased off again. Cronus let it be, humming. Karkat raised his arm to his mouth, biting down to muffle a cry.

Cronus lapped at his nook, gazing up at Karkat. Oh, he was a beautiful sight. His eye ran over ever inch of Karkat he could while on his knees, committing it to memory. Those lovely sounds falling from his equally lovely lips in droves, too. He knew he'd never be able to forget the heat enveloping him, a heat that was nearly too much at first but now he couldn't stand to be without. His biscuit pumped hard just at the mere thought of Karkat nowadays, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"_Fuck_. Cronus, just get your bulge in me before we push our luck too long and someone comes by. The last thing I want is for that loudmouthed asshole to see us. Or, even worse, Sollux. I'll never live it down then."

Never one to deny a request like that, Cronus drew back slowly, enjoying the gasping whine Karkat didn't hold back. After placing one last lingering kiss on either thigh, Cronus stood and pushed his pants down. Grabbing the base of his bulge he asked, "Is that vwhat you vwant, darling? My bulge in your nook?"

"Yes! Now stop playing coy and pail me before I throw you off this balcony."

Cronus was half tempted to bow again, but he was just as zealous to get his bulge in Karkat. Other hand splaying out on the small of Karkat's back, he eased his bulge to Karkat's slick nook. It wiggled right in; Cronus forced himself to go slow and not just ram in. Soon enough he was flush against Karkat, face hot and panting. Karkat's eyes were half lidded—another delicious sight burned into his pan. He swooped down and claimed his lips.

Karkat tossed his arms around Cronus' shoulders, pulling him closer. As his bulge coiled inside him, Karkat's own was trapped between them. It squirmed, and Cronus blindly reached for it, teasing its tip.

A trill started up in the back of Karkat's throat that Cronus eagerly matched. A hand ran up the back of his head, grabbing a handful of hair tightly. Cronus moaned, which encouraged Karkat who tugged it until Cronus pulled back, baring his neck. Karkat surged forward and mouthed at his gills. Cronus groaned freely.

He might have been sheepish about how quick he came if Karkat hadn't first. It was that intense _heat_ spilling around his bulge that pushed him over the edge. He had to brace himself on the table to keep from putting too much weight on Karkat who slumped against his chest. They stayed like that for a quiet moment, basking. Cronus was awash with smug victory. Time was only passing, though.

"I suppose vwe should get back to the party before vwe're missed," Cronus sighed, not at all looking forward to that.

"Fuck that and fuck everyone there. If they haven't noticed we're gone yet then their heads are too far up their own wastechutes. Now carry me to bed, and don't you even think about leaving me until tomorrow."

"Vwhatevwer you say, Karkat," he agreed, fins wiggling. He gathered Karkat up in his arms and went back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fandom is sleeping on service top Dualscar.


	12. Pretty Kitties, Vwicious Kitties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | spit kink | voyeurism | **pet play** |

Having two hot trolls pretending to be cats vying for your sexual attention was something you used to only dream about but here you are now experiencing it. Well okay, this exact scenario wasn't one you ever imagined, but the point still stands. This is sexy and real.

The cats in question look really, really good. Your eyes keep darting between the two of them as they circle your feet, unsure of who to focus on. Their only accessories are cat ears, paw shaped slippers, and tails attached to butt plugs. It's really doing something for you. So's the way they're circling you with hungry eyes.

Nepeta and Meulin had messaged you to wait in this secluded little clearing to "play". Of course you'd readily agreed. Who the hell would pass up an opportunity like this?

Honestly, they're not just hot in the cat getups but also pretty adorable. You sort of wouldn't mind just gathering them in your lap and petting them for a while, scratch between their ears. So when Meulin tugs at your pant leg you sit.

"Hey, pretty kitty, you look cute," you tell her, scratching under her chin. A small purr starts up in her chest.

There's a nudge at your back and you turn to Nepeta. She's all smiles, her fangs clearly visible and glinting in the moonlight. You reach over with your other hand to pet her hair. With a chirp she leans into your touch.

"You too, kitty. Vwery pretty."

Nepeta meows and scoots a little closer, turning to lick your hand. You laugh. Gotta admire their dedication.

Then Meulin's butting her head against your shoulder. You give her a smile and pat your lap. Happily she crawls in it and settles, a small purr starting up. You wrap an arm around her and scratch at her hornbeds. Her purring picks up, making your fins flutter delightedly.

There's a tongue licking the back of your neck and you shiver. You spread your legs a little to give her room to join Meulin but Nepeta only giggles and licks you again. Okay, then, she's enjoying herself. It's not uncomfortable so you let her have her fun, continuing to give Meulin attention instead. She keeps on purring, rubbing her cheek against your chest and neck, occasionally lapping at your gills.

"Heh, I like you all cute and cuddly like this. Good kitty."

Then, realizing she can't see your lips, you twist around to sign it to her. She rewards you with a giggly chirp.

You lean over for a kiss. At the last second she moved, though, so you only catch the corner of her lips.

"Vwhat, too shy for a kiss? Come on, kitty cat, meowsy your mouth over here."

Both of them snicker at the terrible pun. You take that as a good sign. And Meulin does actually lean towards you, eyes sparkling and smiling wide. This has you jazzed.

Until she suddenly darts forward and bites your shoulder. You yelp, more surprised than hurt. She's not using all the force you know she has, but this is no love nip that's for sure.

Before you can ask what the fuck—because seriously, what the fuck?—Nepeta wraps strong arms around you, finding a spot on your neck on the opposite side and biting down. This time you gasp.

"I'm starting to think you're not actually good kitties, huh?"

Meulin chirps with a pleased look on her face.

"I'm not at all in control here, am I?"

Nepeta leans over and bumps your cheeks together, trilling.

"Vwell, this prey's cool vwith that. Please don't break me."

"No purromises."

Hot and terrifying. You can dig it.

After that you really do not get a say in what's happening, not that you're complaining. They suck at your neck, lick your gills, rip your clothes off you. You'd complain, but then Meulin's pawing at your bone bulge, coaxing it out, while Nepeta's mouthing one of your grubscars in a way you're sure will leave a mark.

They play with and tease you a while, leaving you squirming and begging. Not that they give in. They're intent on doing what they want, which involves a lot of claws raking down your bare skin and fangs sinking into sensitive spots like your hipline. At one point Meulin drags her tongue along your bulge from base to tip and you moan like you're paid to. Then Nepeta's sucking on a fin tip and you're really making noise.

Eventually she pushes you on your knees while Meulin pulls your face down to her spread thighs. You get a a bulge in your mouth and after a moment a matching one in your nook.

While Meulin's fingers thread through your hair, Nepeta's decorate your back with scratches you'll surely feel in the evening. Her bulge is as wild as her, thrashing in you with abandon. You're trying real hard not to catch your fangs on Meulin's bulge, but you're pretty sure you graze it a few times; she doesn't seem to mind.

When Nepeta reaches around to palm your bulge that's it for you. Nepeta keeps fucking you through your orgasm as Meulin eases your mouth off her. You whine, wanting to get her off, but she just rests your cheek on her thigh, bulge wrapping around a horn, as Nepeta finishes.

Hot slurry spills in your nook and dribbles down your thighs. You're given a moment before they move you effortlessly—fuck, it's hot how they can just trollhandle you like this—so you're face down in Nepeta's lap now. On top of slurry that sticks to your cheek.

Meulin comes up behind your raised ass and gets a good handful of it before her bulge finds your stretched nook. She presses all the way in quickly, bulge going to town. You whine and trill and curse. Nepeta pets your hair a moment before guiding your mouth to her nook, and you get the hint, lapping up the mess she made.

You manage to come again when she fills your nook with more slurry. Seedflap already full from Nepeta, it tries to greedily soak in as much as it can until you feel ready to burst. Taking pity on you, Meulin pulls you up, back against her soft rumble spheres, and reaches around to spread your thighs. Nepeta crawls forward and opens your nook up, coaxing the slurry to spill, soaking the ground. Dazed, you just close your eyes and ride all the sensations.

When you're empty there are strong arms picking you up. You don't go far, just out of range from the puddle you created. You're laid on the ground and they curl up on either of your sides, purring. You match it, easily drifting off.

A couple hours later your wake up call is a sharp slap to your ass and fangs biting down on your side. Time for round two, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alternate title is: Twvo Cats Spitroasting A Fish


	13. Of Servwice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **hair pulling** | blood play | squirting |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got nothing to say except let this fish fuck, but I'm always saying that so.

Your grip tightens in his hair and you yank him back, ending the kiss. You had bitten down on his lip but hadn't let go, and you can see blood there now. You lick your own lips, thrilled at both the sight and taste.

Horuss looks absolutely debauched. It's a natural look on him. He may be a highly acclaimed executioner, but his true calling is here like this, naked on his knees, a nook stretched bulgeslut who lives to be humiliated and degraded.

"If vworking for clowvns evwer gets old, you'd make a killing as a paid companion. One of the top quality ones, alwvays in high demand."

His face is flushed as he replies, "Thank you, captain. I live to serve."

"You're a vwonderful beast of burden, trust me. Nowv, showv me just vwhat talents you havwe. Start by undressing me."

With steady hands he gets to it. You lean back and let him work, never letting go of his hair as though they're reigns. You pull him occasionally, indicating where he should go next. He takes it in stride, so adept at following orders even when they're wordless. You suppose working for the Grand Highblood prepared him well for parsing something out of utter nonsense so this must be easy for him.

He unclasps your cape and reverently sets it aside, folded. You reward the dedication by pulling him up for a quick kiss before yanking him to your tunic. Briefly you have to let him go so he can get it above your head, amazingly not getting it snagged on your horns, but quickly wrap a long strand back around your fingers. You move him down to your boots, pressing one to his chiseled abs. Dutifully he undoes the laces and pulls it off you with care, setting it neatly aside. The second boot gets the same treatment. Finally it's only your pants left. You lift your hips so he can slide them off, catching the flick of his eyes towards your revealed and obviously swelled bone bulge. You wonder what he thinks that you forwent undergarments. Probably that you're an uncouth lush.

Not that he's wrong, but he's no better.

Now that you're bereft of clothing you lean forward, arms resting on your knees, and pull back hard so his neck is bared. The flush on his face has spread down to his chest. You think he'd look better covered in violet.

"Vwell, you're competent enough in that regard. Let's see howv you use your mouth. Hands behind your back."

"Yes, captain."

Your bulge twitches. Damn do you like when he calls you by rank. It's a forced respect that's becoming rapidly less forced as the night goes on.

You pull him towards your nook as you sit back and spread your legs wider to accommodate him. He's so fucking muscular, however, that it's easier to throw a leg over his shoulder as you push his head where you want it. Eager to serve, he wastes no time in lapping at your nook. Mm, it seems his hands are not the only dexterous thing about him.

In no time your bulge slithers out. You don't bother holding back its exploration. It nudges Horuss' cheek, but since you give no order to he pays it no attention. As agreeable as you at being ignored, it slaps him before finding a horn and squeezing around it, leaving a lovely geneslime trail in his hair.

You'd been reluctant to come up here for an annual report, but damn is the usual hassle paying off. Idly you make plans for the rest of the evening—and morning, because like hell are you ending this before you're both too exhausted and sore to move. First, you think you'll fill his eager nook. Then you'll ride his bulge. After that, you want to see what he looks like on his knees double over, face pressed to the floor while you fuck his wastechute. Now that's a sight you're thrilled to get an eyeful of.

You pull his hair hard enough to get a gasp that has your bulge squirming. Grinning, flashing your mouthful of sharp fangs, you tell him, "Time to see vwhat all your uses are."


	14. Tied Like a Present Vwith a Bowv On Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | public/semi public sex | deep throating/face fucking | **shibari** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need more doloscar in my life so here I am writing it, you're welcome.

Your moirail is much calmer now than when he first came to you earlier. There'd been a low growl in his throat, face flushed with rage. He'd paced across your small room so much you'd had to force him to sit. Instead of the spare chair or pile, however, he'd settled at your feet and laid his chin on your knee. Petting softly between his horns you'd asked him if he wanted you to calm him down, settle his pan. He'd nodded, _Porrim_ falling from his lips sounding more like _please_, and here you are with rope in your hands.

As soon as you'd tied his hands behind his back, elbows to wrists, he'd visibly relaxed. Still tension rolls off him in waves. You have plenty more to do.

Next you guide him to the floor, sitting him crossed-legged. Kneeling in front of him, aware of his eyes tracking your every movement, you wrap another length of jade colored rope around his ankles. It's not necessary, but you use a double column instead of a single with the excuse that you're aware how flexible Cronus is; admittedly it's more for you to aesthetically enjoy.

Part of you aches to ask him how he feels, but you know it's not the time for that. Right now he needs silence and the feel of the ropes across his bare skin, and your presence.

You get to work on the rest, taking your time, pulling rope slowly around his thighs and up across his hips. Outlining his sheath, with a strand of rope pressed against his nook. That elicits a quick intake of breath. You don't acknowledge it; that would only embarrass Cronus who could be oddly shy about these things. Instead you focus on the rope work going up his torso. 

You make diamonds by crisscrossing the ropes in a certain way. One on his stomach, one on his lower chest, one below his neck. Then you guide the rest of the rope in a V across the crooks of his shoulders down his back to wrap under the cuffs on either side of his arms.

The final touch is purely for decoration. Instead of jade, these last two pieces of rope are a lovely violet. You twist one along either horn, then at the tip bring the rope to the opposite horn to wrap around once before repeating until you end up with another diamond. This is a bit more difficult to achieve but you do enjoy it so much. It's more than worth all the hours of practice you've put in.

You step back and examine what you've done.

Of course you hate what or whoever put him in the terrible state that led to this, but you have to admire how beautiful Cronus looks. You are but a mortal troll, after all.

He's so much calmer now. Face relaxed, eyes half lidded, no trace of a growl present. In fact, a faint purr has picked up that does such pale things to your pump biscuit. He's gorgeous. He's yours. You'll take care of him.

Stroking along his cheek you tell him, "Just relax, Cronus, I've got you."


	15. Unevwen Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | cock and ball torture/ball busting |** mutual masturbation** | toys |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're finally up to date with some angst :D

Maybe this wasn't where Cronus had imagined this happening, some dark clearing tucked away so hopefully they wouldn't be found by either of Rufioh's exes, but he could not afford to be picky. Honestly though, it was all pretty romantic when you got right down to it. Two lovers who do whatever they have to so they can be together. Like a storybook he'd beg his lusus to read to him as a wiggler, except with more sex.

The ground is hard and not exactly comfortable, but after a little while Cronus had adjusted. The rush of endorphins as they kissed and touched helped out a lot. Also his arm has gone somewhat numb so hey, not as bad.

They're on their sides, close together. Cronus has his left arm extended for both him and Rufioh's to rest their heads on. One of Rufioh's hands is rubbing along his chest and shoulder, neck, occasionally stroking a fin. Every time he does Cronus sighs. It feels so _nice_.

Their bulges are wrapped around each other, squirming together between their bodies. Meanwhile both of them have fingers in their own nook. Cronus watches his partner, struck with how hot he is—sexy-wise and literally, to the touch, almost too much to handle but Cronus endures. Fuck, Rufioh's such a gorgeous sight. He could get lost just gazing at him.

Mostly Rufioh's kept his eyes closed through most of this, and Cronus takes it as a sign he's really into it. Like he's so focused on the sensations that it's too much effort to open them for long. Occasionally though they do lock gazes and Cronus can't help grinning every time. Rufioh matches it briefly before his eyes shut again, mouth falling open as he pants heavily.

Cronus is really close. The thought of pailing and this moment ending, though, make his biscuit clench. Which is silly because this is just the start of something new. Something he's so excited for. A real relationship, with someone who's actually interested in and doesn't just push him away. That thought is _exhilarating_.

So when Rufioh cries out that he's about to pail Cronus doesn't hold back, rocking his hips to give their bulges some extra friction, fingers pumping in his nook. Like a romance novel they come simultaneously, or near enough that it counts. They lay there, panting together, as their bulges slither back inside. Slurry pools to the ground, mingling with dirt and making Paradox Space's worst mud pie, but Cronus doesn't mind. He's filled with a soft glow as he gazes over at Rufioh.

"That vwas pretty great, right?"

"It was fantastic, doll."

Cronus starts to lean over for a kiss but Rufioh must not have noticed as he turns onto his stomach, wings giving a little flutter that Cronus' fins mimic. Maneuvering under the wings, Cronus inches just a bit close to press his lips to Rufioh's cheek. He turns, capturing his lips, and Cronus grins giddily into the kiss.

"This was great, doll, we def need to do this again."

"Ha, yeah, I vwould hope."

"It's mad nice finding a chill troll who's down with some casual pailing. Instead of crazy bitches, you know? I just need to spread my wings and not get wrapped up in all that relationship drama, you dig?"

His face had slowly fell as Rufioh talked but now he quickly snaps on a casual, aloof demeanor, complete with a cool shrug.

"No vworries vwith that here, chief. Trust me, I get dealing vwith crazy cats and kittens. None of that here, though. Just twvo trolls vwith no romantic ties enjoying each other's company."

Cronus tries to chuckle but it gets caught in his throat. Swallowing hard, he turns on his back and gazes up through the canopy of trees at the sliver of pink moon peeking down at them. 

Okay, so he completely misread the situation. A little disappointing. Actually, a lot disappointing. But these things happen, Cronus supposes, running through all the nice things Rufioh had said to him that led to this, specifically how he really enjoyed Cronus’ company and wanted more of it. In retrospect it’s easy to see how Cronus had gotten the wrong impression, especially with the soft way Rufioh had threaded fingers through his hair.

Well, at least it's attention.


	16. Brat, Lovwe, and Pail Are All Four Letter Vwords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **impact play** | cock warming | lactation |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck I love crokat, they're so fun together.

"You enjoy making this as fucking difficult for me as possible, don't you? Not even in this one activity can I get someone to shut their ignorance maw and open their auditory sponges."

"Sorry, Karkat, I told you I'm a brat."

Karkat stomped over to where Cronus was reclining on the platform and grabbed his chin with a firm hand, making Cronus look him right in the eyes. His fins wiggled.

"That's one word for you. A bulgeslut who's taking great joy in being a fucking nuisance is another, but I guess that's a mouthful."

"I vwould lovwe a mouthful."

"You're really going to make innuendo out of ever single thing I say, aren't you?"

"Nevwer let an opportunity go to vwaste, chief."

"And yet you're constantly wasting my time. Get on your knees."

"Great choice, I look good on my knees," Cronus quipped with a quick and sloppy salute.

Rolling his eyes, Karkat let go of him so he could obey. As Cronus got up Karkat snapped the riding crop across his ass. He jumped before flashing Karkat a grin and wink.

"You are constantly exhausting, Cronus. And don't say something obnoxious like 'you love it'."

Cronus, who absolutely had been about to say exactly that, closed his mouth.

"Cheeky fucking brat."

"You're into it, though."

That earned him two quick strikes on the front of his thighs. His bulge squirmed in its sheath.

"Yeah, you've absolutely lost talking privileges. I don't want any more of that shit spewing nonsense. Your mouth is going to be put to much better use in a minute."

Cronus bit his bottom lip. Karkat waited a moment, arms crossed and foot tapping. Trying not to grin too much, Cronus mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

"Much better. Let's see how long it lasts. Not long, I don't believe in miracles, but if you can last a whole two minutes I'll be amazed—and I'll give you a reward."

His fins perked up at that. There were two things Cronus loved: rewards and punishments. He was almost never quite sure which he was aiming for, usually reaching for whatever was being dangled in front of him at any moment. So he prepared himself to be good.

Easier said than done, because Karkat was way too fun to rile up.

"Close your eyes, Cronus. Hands behind your back."

He did, eager for whatever Karkat had planned. The answer was another strike of the crop, this time to his chest. Immediately he hit the other side next and Cronus' fins flicked in arousal. He could hear Karkat circling him, the occasional hit to below his shoulder blades, his thighs, his chest punctuating Karkat's words.

"You really are just a bratty fucking bulgeslut, aren't you? Every time you open your mouth it's some new aggravation to my already strained pump biscuit. I can't believe how much I bother putting up with you, but I'm a fucking glutton for dumbassery."

"You could put something up in me instead," Cronus blurted. Karkat's hiss was pretty hot.

There was suddenly a boot on the middle of his back pushing Cronus face down on the floor. His horn caught against the carpet and a moment later hands were rubbing them gently and Cronus chirped. Then those hands moved to his hips, raising them, before a leg pushed his thighs apart.

"Ass up is also another vwery good look for me."

Karkat scratched behind one of his fins agreeing softly, "Yeah it is." The tenderness ended with a sharp slap to his ass. "If you're so intent on running your goddamn nonsense gabber then you can count."

Karkat didn't give him a moment to prepare before bringing the crop down against his ass. Grunting, Cronus said, "One."

He landed several more in the same spot and dutifully Cronus called out numbers. Man, Karkat had gotten really skilled with that crop. Cronus had definitely given him plenty of reason to practice. He kept striking across his ass and thighs, landing the occasional softer hit on the back of Cronus' calves all in a pattern he couldn't predict. Cronus was very proud of how he kept himself from squirming.

When Cronus called out _thirty_ he was panting hard, heat from his stinging backside prominent and bulge slithering against his abdomen. The strikes stopped, crop tracing across the curve of his ass. Cronus sighed at this new sensation.

It moved down his thighs along his legs then back up again, Karkat taking his time. Then it moved between his thighs. Karkat dragged the tip along his leaking nook lips, snickering as Cronus shivered, before ghosting along his bulge. Excitedly it jumped towards the crop, wrapping itself around it.

"Cute." Karkat rocked the crop a little, creating friction that had Cronus moaning. "Alright, you horny, obnoxious bastard, do you think you could possibly contain your fucking innuendo for two whole uninterrupted minutes, or is that just too difficult a fucking task for you? Do I need to treat you like a wiggler and go slower?"

"Nyeh, better off treating me like a bucket."

Karkat made a strangled sound like he actually hadn't expected Cronus to say something like that. Cracking his eyes open, he stole a peek at Karkat.

"Heh, you're cute vwhen you're all red like that."

"You're some cosmic punishment for me being a cosmic joke, I fucking swear. Past me was a goddamn foolish asshole for opening my hive and concupiscent platform to you."

"But you don't regret it."

Squeezing the side of his ass Karkat assured, "No I don't regret it. As much of a pan-ache as you fucking are."

He slapped Cronus' ass before reaching between his thighs to untangle the crop. It took a moment to get free, Karkat cursing the whole time. Cronus bit his lip to keep from snickering.

"Finally! Yet somehow this isn't my most pathetic victory."

His bulge tried to slither back around it but Karkat smacked it away lightly. Then he dragged the the crop tip along its length down to his nook. Cronus moaned, which soon turned to a gasp as Karkat landed a quick strike there, the slickness adding to the impact.

"Yeah, you're not done counting yet, brat. Start from one, and this first one didn't count."

"You're so mean—o_ne_.”

Karkat, rubbing the crop along his nook lips, hummed in agreement. Then he flicked his wrist again.


	17. Vwhat Vwaits In The Depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **monster fucking** | breeding | body swap |

It's cold. Dark. You're used to these things, not that they would otherwise bother you. You have some vision, from being a seadweller, and of course cold is nothing to you.

It's what's lurking in the depths that should have you shaking.

The first time you were terrified. Petrified, even, once you caught sight of Her. You just floated there like a young fool preparing to be eaten along with the lusus you'd brought her. She had lurched forward through the water, devouring the carcass to the very last strand in a matter of seconds. Then a tentacle had slithered towards you. It brushed across your cheek gently, ran down your chest and sides, along your horns, like she was trying to figure you out. For the first time you had heard her whispers.

_You are not my Meenah_

You had shook your head, so unsure of what she would do to you and what, if anything, you could do to stop it.

All your worries were unfounded.

She tilted your head up and the water around you rumbled. It took you a moment to realize she was laughing.

After that first encounter it was much easier to face Gl'bgolyb, the horrorterror lusus of the Empress herself. In fact, you looked forward to it. Even if the business of hunting lusii was rather abysmal, bloody work. It left you a very feared and not well like troll. Except by her.

She has always appreciated every morsel you bring her. Surprisingly, she also enjoys your company. Admittedly you can't say that about most people you've ever encountered, but she is so different from anyone else, in so many ways.

Hauling along a gargantuan seagoat, you cast your gaze about. The moment you spot a sliver that could be her in the distance you push forward at top speed—as top as you can currently reach, encumbered as you are. Thankfully it is her. She must notice you as she breeches the distance between the two of you with ease. A tentacle reaches out, caressing your face, and you lean into her touch a moment before hefting her meal towards her eager maw. With fondness you watch her tear into the beast that had put up such a fight with you.

Your biscuit pumps for her.

Gl'bgolyb is beautiful. The rest of your race, save perhaps the Condesce herself, speak of her only in hushed tones, fearful of her might. Fearful of what she _could_ do. One day she will, you know that. She's told you that she will, and then she will die, and you will not be around for it. You were not woeful at the thought of your own death—you may be relatively young still, but there is an exhaustion deep inside your soul that latched on when you were but a wiggler and has only grown heavier through the sweeps—but rather lamented that you would not be there for her.

Now, though, you are here for her. And she for you.

Done with her meal, she beckons you forward by curling two tentacles imploringly, the rest swaying at her sides. There's no hesitation as you come forward into her embrace.

_You seem tired_

You are, but there's no reason for her to worry so you let out a chitter to convey you're fine. Judging by the way she gazes at you with looming eyes, tentacles roaming your body as though checking for any injuries, you assume she doesn't believe you.

After she's satisfied she caresses your right fin and again you lean into her touch. It's wondrous how such a behemoth can be so gentle with you. How she _wants_ to.

One of her tentacles plucks at your clothes inquisitively. You nod, taking a tendril and bringing it to your lips to place a soft kiss upon it.

Another tentacle wraps around your waist, pulling you to her beak. She nuzzles it against your cheek and neck, so much bigger than you that it encompasses both easily. You almost feel like a grub being held by a jade in the brooding caverns. The allusion is shattered when a tentacle slithers up your shirt.

Her body is colder than the water, colder you imagine than where the stars themselves reside. She feels like no other creature you have ever encountered. There's something otherworldly to her that your mere troll pan cannot quite comprehend enough to put into adequate words. All you know is that she feels like home.

Several of her tentacles undress you, moving you around like some doll. She is so careful, though, and so tender. Warmth blossoms in your chest and spreads through you.

Careful to not lose any of your clothing—there have been several times, especially in the beginning of this part of your relationship, where you'd had to swim back up to your ship with less than what you'd had on coming down, including one incident where you were practically naked—tentacles grip them tight close to her body. Plenty are left free to roam across yours.

You press your lips to the smooth hardness of her beak. Eyes falling shut, you run fingers along it, fins fluttering. Likewise she caresses your horns, your sides—paying special attention to your grubscars. She runs tentacles along your legs from feet to thighs where she wraps around and squeezes. It parts your legs wide enough for another tentacle to press between them. At first it slithers towards your nook, but only grazes the lips as it travels up to your neck along your abdomen. She ghosts along your gills and you let out a sigh that passes silently through the water.

After a moment you turn and kiss the tip of the tentacle. It strokes your face in appreciation. Then it moves towards your fins with just the right amount of pressure to make you rumble with a trill.

It goes like that for a bit, her exploring the well trodden territory of your body as you kiss beak and tentacles alike. Eventually you take the very tip of one in your mouth. It's almost like sucking on an eel, a low tingling sensation coursing through you. It's not quite psionics, but certainly something similar in feel. It's pleasant not just in its familiarity.

She indulges this, only pushing in so far; she knows how much you can take. A good several inches, opening your mouth wide and minding your fangs even though they'd hardly hurt her. It's the principal of the thing, and you want her to know your full dedication to her, full and utter devotion.

Tentacle still in your mouth, she moves you in a reclining position. Another one comes up against your back, cradling you. Yet another finds your nook.

She teases her way inside. This alone is enough to make your bulge finally spill. It seeks out attention, so she brings over a tentacle to play with it. You arch into her touch, head lolling back and instantly being cushioned. Your Gl'bgolyb is too good to you.

The tentacle in your nook keeps going. She fills you up completely, until you're sure you'd burst if you took any more. Then, agonizingly slow, she pumps in and out. You chitter needily around the tentacle in your mouth. Others are still stroking your body, teasing your grubscars, caressing fins, and brushing across your gills.

Every nerve is awash in pleasure. You want to keep gazing at her terrible and beautiful visage, but you cannot keep them open, losing yourself to the sensations. Pleasure and arousal build. It comes to a crescendo when she suddenly picks up speed, pushing in and out of your nook and mouth both. All you can do is let her do as she sees fit, trilling in ecstasy.

When you pail your whole body quakes. She holds you steady through it, slowly easing out of you. You give yourself a long moment to recover.

When your senses have mostly returned you kiss her beak in thanks before pressing your forehead against her. She stokes your back, side, legs.

Eventually you must leave her, even if you'd rather not. Reluctantly you give her a farewell kiss that she understands.

_Goodbye Cronus_

Her whispers sound wistful, you think, but you must be imagining it. You're still a bit dazed, after all. With one final kiss you leave your beloved Gl'bgolyb and swim up, up, up.


	18. Vworshipping At The Phallic Altar

Zealously Cronus got down on his knees, grabbing the waistband of Dave's underwear and pulling the last bit of clothing between them off. His human bulge stood tall. Cronus licked his lips.

"I can touch it, right?" His eyes flicked up to Dave's hidden behind those shades hopefully.

"Go to town, man. Have yourself a ball. In fact, have both of them. Take up jug—“

Dave's ramble cut off with an intake of breath as Cronus ran exploratory fingers along the length of his cock.

He'd seen pictures and videos, sure, but having the real deal right in front of him was something else. It was so alien Cronus almost didn't know what to do, but why let that stop him? Reverently he checked it out, marveling in its dry hardness—so different from a bulge. Instead of a nook he had these hanging sacks that Cronus couldn't help squeezing in interest. Dave groaned.

"_Shit_. Okay, yeah, you've already got the hang of this, look at you. A born fucking natural. Like a fish to water. Fuck, wait. That's not offensive to seadwellers, right?"

"Nah, you're good, chief. So you like this?"

"Yeah, man. Like I said, have some fun."

Now that wouldn't be hard at all. Grinning, fins flicking, Cronus gazed at Dave's cock. It was still rigid and waiting. It was wild how passive it was. How it couldn't seek out any pleasure itself, had to wait for someone else to help it out. Always one ready to lend a helping hand, Cronus got to it.

He didn't necessarily have a game plan, but Cronus had watched a few pailvids in preparation. Several. A good amount. He believed in doing the proper research, after all. Anyway, he had a vague idea on how to take things from here.

Wrapping his fingers around the base, his other hand came up to play with the head. That got a sound out of Dave and Cronus glanced up at him. There was a faint flush on his face.

"I like your cock."

"Little Dave likes you, too."

Cronus grinned and, not breaking eye contact, leaned over to drag his tongue across the head. Dave groaned, fingers digging into the sheets.

"Yeah, you are really a natural, bro. The student doesn't even need the teacher, hot damn. Stepped into school with a shiny red apple and got an automatic pass on day one. _Hnnn_.

Cronus, who had popped that bulbous head into his mouth experimentally, swirled his tongue around it.

It was such a foreign shape, and not naturally moist like a bulge. He had to slick it up himself, which he didn't much mind. It was an interesting texture, and a distinctly non-troll taste that excited Cronus.

Equally exciting were the little sounds Dave was making. Or, more accurately, trying and failing not to make. Cronus gazed up at him from the tops of his eyes. Dave was biting his bottom lip, muffling but not silencing his panting. _Hot_. Cronus kept going.

Since it wasn't going to slither further into his mouth on its own, Cronus lowered his head. His tongue pressed against its side, undulating as much as he could in the confined space. It was good enough to draw out a long moan from Dave. Encouraged, Cronus relaxed his throat and took it all into his mouth.

"Sweet _fuck_. Now that's going for the extra credit, five paragraph essay on cock sucking."

Cronus took one of Dave's balls in his hand again, fondling it a bit ungracefully. Still Dave groaned.

"An essay so beautiful it drives the professor to tears. He thinks about it in bed at night, haunted by its—_fuck_, man, you can take cock like a champ."

Cronus hummed; Dave made a strangled sound.

"You're the title belt champion of cock sucking. Beat out all the contenders in the first round. The good kind of one hit wonder, take them out in one go."

That was about all Cronus could understand of Dave's ramblings. He was sounding strained, words low and more to himself than to Cronus now. Cronus wondered if Dave even realized he was still talking. Either way, it was kind of nice.

Cronus pulled back up slowly, dragging his tongue along Dave's length. At the tip he took his time, teasing it. It was leaking now, a sticky and salty pre-slurry that Cronus found fascinating. He lapped at it before pulling back pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth, contemplating the unfamiliar taste. Definitely interesting.

With Dave's cock slick with his saliva, it was much easier to get his hand around and start pumping. Cronus started slow, looking up at Dave who seemed pretty blissed out. No longer talking, mouth open just a bit, hands flexing against the sheets. His face was a pretty shade of red that traveled down his neck and to his ears. Ecstatic at how he was obviously enjoying this, Cronus focused back on his cock.

While he languidly pumped, he licked and mouthed all along it. Dave's hips gave a small buck and his fins wiggled. He gazed up at Dave as he continued, drinking in the sight.

It felt _powerful _to get Dave like this, to get his cock throbbing, fully of his own doing. It couldn’t pick up any slack, couldn’t go deeper or harder. It was all up to Cronus, and he didn’t plan on falling short. This felt too good.

Soon Dave gave a run-on warning that he was close. Cronus' fins perked up. He was _thrilled_ to see what his cock was like as it pailed.

Pulling his face back so he could get a good look at it, his hand picked up speed. For good measure he groped Dave's balls some more, trying to imitate what he'd seen in those videos. Before he knew it white slurry was erupting out of him. Maybe not as much as trolls produced, but still impressive as it sprayed up Dave's abdomen, fell onto on his thighs, and some even made it onto Cronus.

"_Vwowv_," he breathed. What a splash.

Curious, Cronus leaned forward for a proper taste of this human slurry, licking off what was dripping down his cock that had gotten noticeably limper. Dave fell back with a strangled groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let Cronus Enjoy Cock 2019


	19. Vwhen You Knowv Vwhat You Vwant Don't Hold Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | degradation | pegging | **spanking** |

Your lips quirk upwards as you gaze at Aradia's ass. It's a lovely of pink currently, and such a tantalizing sight you can't help but grab hold of her cheeks and give them a good squeeze. She moans. It's a delicious sound.

"Such a vwanton slut for pain."

"Mm, yes, and you're very good at delivering, captain," she compliments, and you reward her with a smack to the side of her thigh. Aradia lets out a happy chirp, face nuzzling against the concupiscent platform.

This girl—young woman more like, certainly no wiggler—came to you with an obvious gleam in her eyes that raked you up and down. You, obviously, accepted her advances. She's a gorgeous thing, yes, but even more than that you've thus far enjoyed her company plenty so it was easy to open your platform to her. You can't deny, either, that her proposal for the evening excited you. You've lived long enough to know what you enjoy, after all, and long ago shed any shame or hesitance.

Thankfully Aradia is well aware of what she wants and is in fact, refreshingly brazen about it.

Well, no reason to keep her waiting.

You step back, letting go of her ass only to give it a sharp smack. It jiggles delightfully. Grinning, you keep on smacking across her cheeks for a moment. Aradia's certainly not shy about making little sounds of pleasure that spur on your hand and have your bulge swelling. Then your nook clenches hungrily as she lets out an absolutely decadent moan.

"You are positivwely stunning," you tell her, punctuating the remark with a swift slap to her inner thigh that makes her jolt a little. It lets you catch a good glimpse of her squirming bulge trapped between the mattress and her stomach. Both are sticky with burgundy slurry.

"And you're quite the charmer with a very firm hand."

You prove her right with two quick strikes to the curve of her ass. Aradia gasps, and you catch both her smile and the flutter of her eyelids which have your fins fluttering in response. Oh, she really is a gorgeous sight. You are so eager to see her come undone.

"Touch your nook," you order. Dutifully she reaches a hand between her thighs, playing with her slick lips. "Good girl. Let's see howv long until you come."

"What a good idea, captain."

As she teases a finger into her wet and willing nook, you don't leave her wanting. First you smack across her thighs with renewed vigor, not giving pause until the girl is panting and moaning like you've paid her to. It's definitely not a show, though. Aradia is very much enjoying herself, cheek and horn pressing hard against the platform looking absolutely debauched and loving it.

You smack down as low as you've been going, admiring the bright red her thighs have grown. As you go back up you continue to her ass. Certainly don't want to ignore it, after all. Too round and beautiful not to keep slapping. Actually you can't help pausing a moment to squeeze her ass again. It firm and jiggly all at once.

"You havwe such a nice ass, Aradia."

You press your claw tips against her flesh, reveling in the gasped hitch of her breath. It's such a good sound, practically begging you to knead her ass which earns such a delicious high whine that your bulge finally spills.

"Absolutely magnificent," you groan.

"I do appreciate that, captain," she pants, sounding very strained, "but please don't stop now. I'm very close."

Can't deny a request like that, so you step back and take a hearty swing. Loving both the jiggle and chitter that starts up, you do it again to the same spot. Then a few more times for good measure. She positively _keens_.

Aradia has three fingers pumping erratically in and out of her nook. Slurry dribbles down her leg. It's tempting to get down and lick it clean, taste that burgundy on your tongue. So you do. You drag your tongue slowly up first one trail of slurry then another, intermixed with a few slaps on her plush ass. You keep going up to her nook, teasing right below where her fingers are still working. Aradia makes what you would absolutely call a squeal.

With a final few sharp smacks placed randomly across her ass and thighs, tongue pressing into her nook proper and wiggling around, she pails. Slurry cascades around her fingers and into your mouth, and you swallow every drop. 

After a moment you pull back slowly and stand. She's slumped against the platform with a blissed smile on her face, eyes closed. Chuckling, you wipe drool from the corner of her mouth.

"I'll assume you enjoyed yourself, then."

Aradia hums. You admire the vibrant hue of her ass and thighs, appreciating a job well done.


	20. Vwith Rumble Spheres Like These Vwho Needs Quadrants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | edging | sadism/masochism | **titty fucking** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love dualsign in every single flavor: quadrant blurring, red, pale, black. Rife with dynamic possibilities.

The possibly best pair of rumble spheres you’ve ever seen—definitely best you’ve ever felt—belong to this mutant blood that you’d be culled for pailing. God, that death would be worth it.

He's hot, and you mean both figuratively and literally. As goddamn hot as his cherry blood, you swear. His ass? Round, firm, nice to grab hold of. That mouth? Pretty with full lips you'd love to see around your bulge. Horns? For being so small and nubby they're oddly adorable, suit him, and you admire how well cared for they are especially for a fugitive on the constant run. _Those rumble spheres though._

These rumble spheres are so good they might kill you before the Empress can.

By some twist of fate you met this Kankri—the rabble rouser that's been a thorn in the Condesce's side—and decided to give him safe passage aboard your ship. Yes, mostly because you're a horny fool, but at least you know your crew is loyal to you above even the Empress herself. Really they can't blame you. To reiterate a previously made point, he is _hot_.

Honestly it's amazing you can even process any other thoughts than his rumble spheres. Your bulge is currently between them, and if the double messiahs are real you're cushioned between them in physical form. But no, there are no messiahs, they don't deserve the credit for these beautiful comfortplanes. The closest thing to a real miracle that can exist.

Damn, you could wax poetic about these rumble spheres all night.

He's watching you through half lidded eyes, hands pressing his rumble spheres together while your bulge squirms between them like a wiggler amongst their twelfth perigee eve's presents. Kankri had been the one to offer this, after coyly teasing you for staring at his chest. Not your fault he chose such a form fitting outfit that showed them off, you'd told him, and after calling you a licentious, uncouth lecher, well, here you both are. Him on his knees between your spread thighs while you rock your hips to give your bulge that extra friction.

It feels like time has stopped, and your world has narrowed into this one wonderful moment. Your bulge slaps hungrily against Kankri's bare flesh, coating his chest in violet that looks beautiful on him. You think about telling him the color suits him; maybe he'll insult you again, you wouldn't mind that at all. He's fun to goad, after all.

Admittedly, though, you're panting a bit too much for words. You're so close, and while you never want this moment to end—especially knowing the chances of this ever reoccurring are about as low as his rebellion winning—the image of him covered in your slurry is so enticing you think you could pail from it alone.

You manage to hold out just a little longer, though. Until that smug mouthy bastard speaks again, taunting you in an overly sweet tone.

"My, captain, I'm shocked you've lasted this long. Aren't you enjoying my rumble spheres? And here I thought you wanted them painted in your slurry."

That does it. You pail hard, indeed getting slurry all over his perky, gorgeous rumble spheres. Kankri doesn't let go of them, keeping your spent bulge cushioned there between them. He looks so fucking _victorious_. It drives something in you that you haven't felt in a long time. Maybe not even to these fierce degrees.

"I hope you're not too exhausted already, captain."

Every time he says your title it's like a taunt. Damn your nook for clenching in desire. With a hint of a growl to your words you reply.

"Not at all, Vwantas."


	21. Definitely Not Underwvhelmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | humiliation | **overstimulation** | cream pie |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I was gonna do crokri, then I realized if I did dualkri I'd have Dualscar with every Vantas this kinktober. Then I did dualcrokri because that's just delicious.

So, yeah, dying sucked. Possibly the worst thing that eve happened to you, and honestly that's saying a lot. But! Currently the best thing to ever happen to you is in the process of happening and it's _amazing_.

That best thing ever is being _ravished_ by your adult Alternian self and Kankri "Totally Celibate, Sex is a Slur" Vantass.

You're not sure how your other self managed to convince Kankri to go along with this but hot damn are you glad he did. The guy can work magic apparently. You are in awe.

You're also in bliss because they've both been going at you for a good few hours now. In all that time you've been stark ass naked while somehow they've kept on most of their clothes. You've just been touched and teased, no bulge in you yet, though their mouths and fingers have been hard at work; you've only pailed twice, yet, mostly just built up to let crumble. Which is _torture_. You want to see it all and feel it all, damn it, you deserve it.

The captain conjured up this memory of his ship cabin, and you gotta admit you're jealous. Place is nice. You've seen it from plenty angles now—on your stomach, on your back, knees, siting on his lap-—and you have to say that now you definitely want your own ship.

Right this moment, though, you gotta focus on priority number one.

"Come on, take off the rest of your clothes."

"Manners, Cronus," Kankri chides. When he moves back quickly his rumble spheres bounce a little and you can't help staring.

"Take off your clothes _please_."

There's a deep rumble of a chuckle from behind you, and the captain's arms tighten around your midsection. Your bulge can't help twitching.

"Vwhat do you say, Kankri? Should vwe givwe him vwhat he vwants?"

"Really now, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk like Cronus isn't here? He is an autonomous troll and can answer that question himself."

You gotta admire the gall of Kankri to talk to a full grown seadweller like that. You're pretty sure they've been waxing pitch all night, not that Kankri would ever admit that. 

"Cronus, do you think we should give you what you want?"

"Fucking _yes_, please, I am literally begging you."

God, you are going to die again like this, you know it and you love it.

"Vwell, since he asked so nicely howv can vwe say no?"

Oh you are ready to rejoice! The captain props you up on some pillows before rounding to the side of the bed where Kankri is. Eagerly you watch. They argue a little, Kankri insisting he can undress himself and the captain insisting there's no fun in that; it's honestly hot.

Eventually he manages to cajole Kankri into letting him slowly pull down his body suit leggings thing, grinning at you the whole time. Then Kankri returns the favor, removing the captain's pants all the while complaining that he could easily do it himself but Kankri doesn't want to be rude.

Your mouth is watering. The _things_ you want to do to them.

Of course, you're not in charge here. All you can do is lie back and gladly take it. Funny enough, for all his posturing on autonomy Kankri sure does seem to enjoy taking control of you. The captain sure as hell does.

You sure as hell enjoy it.

After that they're both on you again, hands and mouths roaming. Sucking, licking, nipping, _biting_. Claw graze your sides, tease your grubscars. You can't keep track of it all.

The captain moves your head to the side with a single finger under your chin so he can claim your lips in a tantalizingly tender kiss. It's in stark contrast to the rough way Kankri's going at your neck. You moan, fins all aflutter.

Then your hips are being pinched with calloused fingers as a soft hand trails up and down your spine. You buck, bulge coiling around needily. It slaps against the captain's hand and only gets pinched for its trouble; you squeal into his mouth.

The captain pulls back, stroking your thigh now. You don't get a moment to catch your breath before Kankri's mouth is on yours next, and it's a good thing both that you have gills and that you're already dead. Speaking of gills, there's a tongue dragging across first the set at your neck before moving down to your abdomen. The captain takes his time, really giving them attention. Runs his fang tips along the slits and chuckles at your shiver.

It's like this for a while—them moving you around as they see fit intermingled with a bunch of teasing that leaves you panting and begging in between kisses for more. The captain just fondly calls you impatient while Kankri lectures how rushing them could be quite triggering. Your bulge and nook fucking _ache_.

Soon enough words are just too difficult. So you whine and buck, give pleading eyes in between the kisses. Both of them are bastards, though, and it does little good. They are determined to do whatever they want to you at whatever pace they deem. While skirting around your poor bulge and nook, besides the stray teasing finger that never stays long.

Until, when you’re flat on your back and Kankri's knees are on either side of your face as he's kissing you upside down, there's suddenly a mouth on your nook. You squirm eagerly but hands clamp down on your hips. His tongue presses into you a moment later without preamble and you groan into Kankri's mouth.

Something warm and wet slaps against the top of your head before constricting around a horn: Kankri's bulge. Damn that's hot. You can feel it slithering around.

Kankri himself, meanwhile, doesn't seem to want the captain to hog all your attention. He straightens, stroking your cheek at the whine you let out. Then those fingers are popping into your mouth. There's this look of concentration on his face as he sort of prods like some cattle inspector that goes right to your bulge.

"Now, Cronus, if you need to speak alert me. I'd hate to take away your voice."

You trill. There's drool catching in the corners of your mouth.

"Good. You know, I must admit you do look rather gorgeous like this. Not to say you don't always look very attractive, but this really does suits you, I think."

You could die all over again right here right now and that would be alright.

The way your Alternian self is twisting his tongue around is driving you mad. He's got sweeps of experience and he's using them all to make you come undone. You're close again, and desperate for that release.

Yet your Alternian self is also a complete fucking _asshole_, you remember vividly as he suddenly pulls back. The whine you let out is seriously pathetic, but you're too far gone to care. All your nerves are on absolute fire.

"Kankri, ride his face."

"I remind you that I am not taking orders from some—“

"Kankri, vwould you like to ride his face?"

"That is a lovely idea. Cronus, would you mind if I rode your face?"

It's hard to talk with fingers in your mouth so you strengthen your trill, opening wider for him. Kankri's so flushed, face a bright red that looks so good. You see him swallow before his fingers pull out. Then he's untangling his bulge and kneeling over you, lowing his nook to your ready mouth. Happily you grab onto his thighs and lap at him like he's a five course meal and you're a starving troll.

It's hard to concentrate when the captain's swirling a finger around your nook lips for a bit until suddenly dipping it in proper. He pumps it slowly for a time, pushing your legs farther apart. Then he's pulling out of your nook only to press against your wastechute. You let out a strangled gasp that's muffled by Kankri's nook. In turn he groans, hands squeezing your sides; his claws graze your grubscars.

The captain keeps working your wastechute open like that while you bring Kankri to climax. You're making all sorts of sounds as you try to keep focused. It helps to hear Kankri's labored breaths, letting you know you're doing a good job. Occasionally the captain talks, too, praising you and telling you how well you're doing. It makes your nook clench and bulge twitch every time.

Your only warning before slurry fills your mouth is Kankri's sudden and intense cry of your name. Automatically you swallow. Geez, there's a lot of it, but you keep swallowing as much as you can, slurry dripping down your chin. You can feel it coating your neck and some even getting on your gills but you can't quite care, thrilled at making Kankri pail.

Kankri slides off you after a moment. Then he's kissing you hard and quick, and your fins wiggle wildly.

When he pulls back the captain pulls him up. Kankri starts to growl but then as the captain whispers something in his ear he quiets, eyebrows perking up.

You make a questioning sound. Your answer comes in the form of the captain pulling you up and twisting you around so your back is against his chest, holding your hips so you're hovering just above his lap. There's a slick prod at your wastechute and you gasp. His bulge wiggles in and fuck it feels so _good_, especially when he starts lowering you in his lap. When he's in all the way he tightens arms around your waist and presses his mouth to the crook of your neck. You keen.

For a moment you soak the sensations in, eyes closed. They shoot open when fingers press into your nook. Kankri's staring down at what he's doing with intent. It makes you lick your lips, tasting the bit of slurry still soaked in, and your nook clench around him.

"Aren't you such a pretty sight?" the captain croons. You reply with a happy chitter, nuzzling your cheek against his horn. He chuckles. "Come on, darling, pail for us."

You half expect Kankri to snap at him about how you should be allowed to come at your own pace, not by his order or something equally ridiculous, but he's really into fingering you. So you focus on the captain's words, because really it's not a hard task. Kankri's just stretching you wide with three fingers, pumping in and out in a rhythm wholly mismatched from the one of your Alternian self's bulge as it flicks around in your wastechute. It doesn't take you very long at all to pail, head falling back against the captain's shoulder.

Neither of them stop.

You whine, squirming in his lap, but he only holds you still and kisses your jaw. You think you hear him say something but you're a little too dazed to catch it. When you manage to refocus it's Kankri who's talking, far too matter of fact for this sort of situation, frankly.

"I really don't think he can take it."

"I'm surprised at your lack of faith in him, Kankri. I'd go so far as to say that's a little problematic of you."

Kankri's sharp intake of breath would be hilarious if he hadn't also twisted his fingers around in such a way that sets your nook on fire.

"Cronus, do you think you can handle me? I don't want you to push yourself, of course, and won't be offended if you can't. I'd hate to pressure you into something you didn't want."

"I vwant it!" you whine, not actually sure what he's referring to. His face lights up, though, and it's gratifying.

"Then I would certainly hate to keep you wanting."

He pulls out of your nook, and you're torn between relief and remorse until he settles in front of you, fingers pressing into your mouth. As you lap at your own slurry his bulge practically darts into your nook. A desperate sound escapes you, eyes clenching shut again. The captain shooshes you, knuckles stroking your cheek. Both of them talk to you but you can't hold on to a single word.

You pail again and then you're lost in a sea of sensations, just riding their waves. You're not even fully cognizant when the others fill you with their slurry. It's only when you're being held over an already half full pail—forehead pressed to the captain's chest while two different hands rub your back and another set of fingers are coaxing your seedflap to empty—that you start coming to. You stir with a questioning chitter.

"Vwith us again, darling?" You nod, fins flicking weakly. "Just rest a fewv minutes." He presses his lips to a fin, words soft but clear. "You'll need all your energy for round twvo."

You are going to die again and it is going to be _wonderful_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pitch dualkri is so good and underutilized.


	22. Gotta Havwe That Boop-Oop-A-Doop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | master/mistress | breath play | **lingerie** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Cotav is underrated   
2\. Betty Boop is great don't @ me  
3\. Instead of breath play I used a breath player because I think I'm clever

“Did you knowv that for humans traditionally only the chicks vwear lingerie? That’s a goddamn shame. My legs look _fantastic_.”

“That, uh, is certainly not, the traditional way people greet their matesprit, but I don’t have any complaints. Your legs, are very fantastic, yes.”

Cronus beams. Tavros gives his own smile as he eases the respiteblock door closed and comes over to the concupiscent platform where Cronus is. He had been laying out with his revealing outfit on full display, but now he flips onto his stomach facing Tavros, legs bent up and locked at the ankle.

Tavros can’t help his roaming eyes as they soak in the sight. Cronus really is very attractive. He could get lost in just staring at him for hours. Especially in his current getup.

Cronus has on a black see-through slip that hardly reaches his nook and certainly does nothing to cover anything, and a bronze colored garter with a violet heart on his left thigh. Tavros can’t deny how _hot_ all of this is.

“Uh, is there, a special occasion I can’t remember?”

“Nyeh, I just vwanted to get all dolled up for you. Vwhat do you think?”

“I am thinking, admittedly, a lot of things. Mostly, how you look incredibly sexy right now.”

Fins wiggling, Cronus leans forward for a kiss and Tavros readily meets him half way. He reaches up to cup Cronus’ cheek.

“For the record, my outfit is inspired by Betty Boop. She’s a sexy human cartoon character.”

“That is certainly, uh, confusing. But, even though I don’t know who she is, I know, that you’re way sexier.”

That makes Cronus sit up and tug Tavros onto the platform. He doesn’t fight it, climbing up and settling beside his matesprit. They kiss again, a little more heated, mouths opening as hands roam. Tavros runs finger over the thin slip, tracing along his sides. It is such a flimsy material it would be far too easy to rip it so Tavros keeps his touch delicate.

Cronus, on the other hand, tugs and yanks indiscriminately at Tavros’ clothing. Without breaking the kiss he helps shrug off his button up so Cronus can undo the velcro of his other shirt and pull it off him. Then Cronus goes for his zipper. For that Tavros does have to break their kiss for just a moment as they snag on his metal legs.

Eyeing him hungrily Cronus whistles. Heat washes over Tavros.

“Did, uh, you have, anything in mind for this seduction?”

“Just that I vwant your hot bulge, chief.” He leans back against the mound of comfortplanes, legs spreading. “Reins are all yours.”

It’s a very appetizing series of words. Tavros gazes at Cronus, starting down and slowly working his way up, drinking in the sight. Cronus lays there unhurried, always one to enjoy being admired. He hikes the slip up past his nook, revealing how his nook is already slick. Tavros’ tongue darts out to lick his lips, aware of the goofy grin on his face. He can’t help it, and even if he could he wouldn’t want to.

He crawls over to Cronus, kneeling between his thighs and leaning over to kiss him again. Cronus wraps loose arms around his neck. There are fingers threading through the back of Tavros’ mohawk and he sighs.

“Just, lie back,” he instructs when the finally pull apart for air.

Cronus obeys, resting his arms along the comfortplanes and watching Tavros intently, giddily. His fins flare out when Tavros starts kissing along his neck. He goes slow, lavishing Cronus with kisses as he strokes his thigh, feels up his chest and the small rumble spheres there. They’re the perfect size, fit in the palm of his hand so when he squeezes he gets the whole sphere. Cronus’ head lulls back as he lets out a content trill.

When his mouth moves down to Cronus’ rumble spheres, something slick and imploring slaps at his wrist. Tavros glances down at the violet bulge that has wiggled out. He grins, reaching for it and brushing knuckles across the tip. It dances at the attention.

“Somebody’s excited.”

“It’s me, I am vwery excited.”

Cronus flashes him a smile that’s all sharp teeth. The natural danger of his mouth is a stark juxtaposition to the love and warmth framing the rest of his face, and it makes arousal pool in Tavros’ bone bulge.

He continues kissing Cronus over the slip. After a bit Cronus gently takes hold of one of his horns, rubbing the curve and just smiling down at him. Eventually Tavros reaches bare skin again. He runs his tongue along Cronus’ thighs up to his dripping nook, licking the pre-slurry that’s dribbled down. Cronus’ breath hitches, back arching and bulge zipping over. Tavros pets it like he would an overzealous barkbeast to keep it out of the way.

“I lovwe your mouth,” Cronus tells him, hand moving to run fingers through his mohawk, “but I’m dying for your hot bulge.”

“Have, some patience, Cronus.”

“That like my least devweloped skill.”

“Uh, I am, well aware, trust me.”

Tavros punctuates his teasing by dragging his tongue along Cronus’ nook lips. His head falls back with a moan that gets Tavros’ bulge swelling for release.

His “hot bulge” doesn’t quite work right, but Cronus has never seemed much to mind. It at least works better than his nook that has such little feeling it might as well not have any. On a good day his bulge can at least move a bit, and occasionally even produce some slurry. So he’s no stranger to using a bit of help, and tonight he chooses the shiver hook.

After teasing Cronus open a bit, he gets up to retrieve it, just grinning at Cronus’ high pitched whine. His fins perk up when he catches sight of the toy. His bulge, too.

Climbing back onto the bed, Tavros wrangles his bulge and pushes the hoop down snug to the base. Then he curves the thin metal hook into Cronus’ nook, leaning over to capture his lips again before flicking it on low. Cronus gasps into his mouth which soon turns into a moan. It has Tavros’ bulge pressing hard against the opening of its sheath. He reaches between his thighs and helps coax it out.

“Let me,” Cronus insists when the kiss ends and Tavros has only managed to get it about an inch freed.

Tavros sits back and lets him. Cronus is skilled at this, and frankly it’s just nice to have this gentle nonjudgmental attention. He takes Tavros’ bulge and pulls it out slowly. It’s a tingly, somewhat numb sensation that would be bizarre if Tavros wasn’t so used to it, but thankfully not uncomfortable. Soon enough Cronus gets his full length out, hand curling around the sluggish moving tip.

“There you are, chief. Nowv vwe can kick this party into next gear.”

“Thank you, Cronus.” Tavros leans over, making like he’s going to kiss him again but instead turning the shiver hook on high. He flashes Cronus a wicked grin. “Consider, uh, the next gear, kicked.”

His eyes look ready to roll to the back of his head as he lets out a high keen. Tavros pushes him back against the comfortplanes and nestles between his thighs, guiding his bulge to Cronus’ nook and easing in. Cronus throws his arms Tavros’s neck, an encouraging chitter starting up.

There’s some movement from his bulge, brushing against the shiver hook and heightening the sensations. Really it’s just in there so Cronus feels full. Tavros is all about making him feel good, which he doesn’t want to half ass, so he goes back to mouthing any bare skin he can reach as he fondles Cronus through the slip.

When Cronus pails Tavros doesn’t quite join him, but it still feels nice. What especially feels nice is the way Cronus clings to him, fins all aflutter and purring in content. Tavros stops the shiver hook and holds him close, getting into a position where his horns aren’t a menace and stroking Cronus’s side, enjoying the feel of the slip on his fingertips.

“You, uh, should wear this again, sometime. It’s nice.”

Cronus trills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep shoving the shiver hook into my fics lol


	23. Just A Couple Of Vwrecks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **angry/hate fucking** | **gagging** | lap dancing |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little violent lmao

Meenah swung and Cronus barely ducked in time. He used the force she was exerting to grab onto one of her braids and yank her around. She stumbled, falling flat on her flat ass. Cronus straightened, sneering. Bitch looked surprised he’d gotten one over on her.

“I may be a lovwer but that doesn’t mean I can’t throwv dowvn vwith your punk vwannabe ass.”

“Cod damn, everyfin that chums outta yoar mouth is obnoxious. Makes a gill wanna krill herself to escape it.”

Watching her stand up with narrowed eyes Cronus snapped, “Already did that, chief, along with everyone else!”

“Yeah, you’re whalechum.”

Cronus lunged at her, but she had been waiting for it. Smirking, showing off fangs dripping with her own blood, she swiped his legs. Then as he fell she brought her knee up against his jaw, cackling at his hiss of pain and drops of blood he spat out. Oh, and even a tooth. _Good_.

“Such a fucking _bitch_.”

Meenah kicked him hard enough he rolled into his back, clutching his left shoulder.

“Yo, cool it on those triggering words before Kankersore magically pops up.”

With a vitriol summoned from the depths of his being Cronus growled, “Nevwer bring up magic again. You don’t deservwe to.”

Meenah laughed, a mean and grating sound, as Cronus got to his feet.

“Cod, don’t tell me you actshoally still believe in that bullfishshit.”

“Magic may be nothing but a disappointing lie, but at least it has more vwalue than a runawvay heiress vwho alwvays talks a big game then disappears for a vwhile until she can swvoop back in and take all the credit for others’ hard vwork.”

Jaw and fists clenching, Meenah wished she had her 2x3dent. It was across the room, flung there at the beginning of their squabble. She could see it now poking out from behind the upturned table.

“Don’t even start with me, Clampora. Ain’t got no room to judge. Especially when you don’t know what the ship you’re talking about. So why don’t you clam up already?”

“I’ll clam up vwhen you growv up and stop being nothing but a spoiled heiress.”

With a hiss she flew at him, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs. After some wrestling around she managed to get on top of Cronus. She backhanded him across the face, and it felt so good she did it again in the opposite direction. Going for a third strike, though, was her downfall.

Cronus sunk his fangs into her hand. Meenah let out a hiss. The bastard didn’t let go; she pressed her other hand against his throat and _squeezed_. With a gasp he finally let go of her and Meenah yanked her hand to safety. She didn’t let go of his throat.

“What? Got nothin’ else to say, buoy? No more whining? No clamplaints?”

All he did was grab at her chest, struggling to throw her off. One of his hands was pinned, though, and his gills were flaring around her fingers trying to funnel in as much air as they could. Her lips curled upwards. She brought up her injured hand, smearing royal tyrian across his violet flushed face.

“Sea, this is a good look for you, Clampora. Silent, on yoar back, legs spread.”

She shifted, feeling the wiggly in his stupid tight pants. Not that she could judge—she’d had one for a while now. Still, she wasn’t gonna relinquish the upper hand.

“Shit, you are such a pathetic horny bastard. There’s no kelp for your depressing ass, Clampora. You’re just lucky I’m even touching—“

Meenah yelped as someone was suddenly yanking her fin, pulling her off Cronus. Porrim, she realized as her sickly sweet face came into view.

“I always thought it was basic manners to not destroy someone else’s hive with petty fighting.”

“Yo, Porrim, welcome hive.”

Porrim just smiled as she took something out of her sylladex and forced it into Meenah’s mouth. A jade color ball gag.

“Yeah, I heard what you were saying to Cronus,” she said, fastening it around Meenah’s head. “I’m not having any more of that.”

Meenah didn’t fight it, having learned it was just easier to go along with their auspictice’s whims, and instead channeled her still boiling rage into glaring at Cronus who was sitting up and rubbing his neck. At least she could see marks where her fingers had been squeezing. That was satisfying.

“I appreciate the help, Porrim, but obwviously could havwe handled that m—mmph!”

“Oh, I’m stopping you before you can start,” Porrim told him, fastening a matching gag around his head. His fins dropped and she papped his cheek as she pulled back. “Much better. Now, let’s have some fun that doesn’t involve ruining my hive.”


	24. Vwhat A Catch Of The Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | shower/bath sex | **hunter/prey **| cock ring/strap |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely I'm finishing these up lol
> 
> Also this came out more as two predators trying to make the other prey whoops. Still primal sex though.

You know she’s out there. Waiting, watching. This is her territory, and you’ve dared to knowingly step here.

The forest is eerily quiet. Your fins are raised as you listen carefully, trying to catch Meulin’s movements. She knows what she’s doing, though, knows these woods, and has no desire to be caught.

That’s something you have in common.

She may have the upper hand, but that doesn’t assure her a win. You’re not the type to roll over and bare your neck to any troll who snarls at you. You are Cronus Goddamn Ampora, orphaner turned rebel, renowned captain who has struck fear in the—holy shit she’s barreling right for you.

You barely catch the movement out of the corner of your eye and do your best to defend yourself, guarding your face with your arm. You feel her claws sink into it as you both go crashing to the ground. She lands on top of you and instantly starts ripping at your shirt, fangs snapping at any bare skin they can.

The indignity at having yet another shirt ruined surges through you and with a mighty growl you throw her off. Then you spring up, intent on getting on top of her, but she’s already done the same thing, on all fours like the wild beast she is and a dangerous glint in her eyes extenuated by her cheeky grin. Matching her pose, you meet her eyes and _wait_.

It’s very hard to resist moving first. You have to concentrate to keep your hands still, your fins from flicking; they’re raised in a show of dominance, yet that feels like a loss, like you’re conceding that she’s worthy of your exertion. You swear she picks up on this and enjoys it.

At least she’s the one who breaks first, shooting out towards you. You’re ready for her, jerking out of the way. As she goes past you, you twist around and dig your claws into her shoulder, reveling in her sharp hiss. It’s your turn to rip her clothes, getting in a long tear that runs down her chest and reveals her right rumble sphere. She turns to you so you get a good view, baring her fangs. You just smirk.

You may be ready when she trikes at you again, but she’s relentless and gets a good handful of your tattered shirt, yanking you forward to smash your mouths together. A small part of you wants to simply give in and enjoy the attention. Pride is much more powerful, however, and you bite her lower lip, not letting go until she relents and tries to pull back. You let her end the kiss, busying yourself with grabbing onto her hips before swooping down to bite her shoulder. Meulin lets out a mix between a gasp and a growl, and it goes straight to your bulge.

Coincidentally, so does her hand. She squeezes your sheath making your bulge spill the rest of the way out. You can’t help your low groan, unlatching your fangs to lick at the blood trickling out. Meulin doesn’t let go, in fact applying more pressure and soon it grows painful. Hissing right in her face doesn’t make her back off, instead the corners of her mouth lifting even further and curling.

You grab her wrist, squeezing hard as you yank her off. Keeping the momentum going, you shove her onto her back and mount her before she has the chance to recover. You keep hold of the one wrist as you press your lips together sloppily. Her other hand, however, paws at your clothing. She gets the remains of your shirt off before grabbing hold of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze before she’s tearing at your pants, too.

Maybe you should fight against that, but all you do is follow her lead and make sure she’s not going to be able to wear her own clothes back to her matesprit. Soon enough the both of you are surrounded by the tattered remnants of your clothing. Her bulge is fully spilled, and it finds yours. They wrap around each other in their own stalemate. For a second your eyes fall shut, forehead presses to the crook of her neck as pleasure courses through you.

It’s your undoing.

Meulin flips your positions, straddling your hips and grinning down as she shoves two fingers into your nook. You let out an embarrassingly high keen. It makes her snicker and heat rise to your face. You refuse to give in so easily. Even if the way she’s twisting her fingers around feels sublime. Cronus Ampora is not just some cat toy—yet you know how to bide your time.

She kisses along your jaw, trailing to your fins that she nips at. Then, quite suddenly, she bites down on the end at the same time she spreads her fingers and pops another one in. Admittedly you let out another very undignified sound. This should not reflect on your overall prowess. Meulin is a bitch and your hate for her is blacker than a starless and moonless night at sea, but damn does she know what she’s doing.

So do you, though.

What you do is keep waiting. Not because it feels so good you want to savor it! Sweeps hunting have taught you patience.

It does feel really good, though.

So you spread your legs a little further, coax her to keep going. As she moves to your gills you can feel the smug contour of her lips. It makes you want to gnash at her throat, but you exert a little bit of goddamn willpower until the perfect moment reveals itself.

It’s really not that long of a wait. She pulls out of you, papping your cheek when you whine—purely for show!—before grabbing your bulges. Meulin tries to separate them but they’re both incredibly stubborn, tightening around each other. That’s embarrassing for both of you. But it does give you the perfect opportunity to reclaim the upper hand.

While she’s distracted trying to puzzle them out, you manage to flip the two of you around so she’s the one on her back once more. A very good look for her, you must say. To yourself, anyway. You’re a little busy trying to keep her from throwing you aside or mauling your face off for words. Pleasure is the trick as you rock your hips, reveling in the flutter of her eyelids.

It’s beautiful, the way she’s both hissing and moaning. You hold Meulin steady as you rock. It’s obvious she’s enjoying this as much as you. You let yourself get lost in the mounting pleasure, pressing your face to the crook of her neck. It’s not long until you’re close, overtaken by pleasure, so you aren’t prepared when suddenly Meulin sits you both up and grabs your bulges again. Damn bitch is still trying win this late in the game. Even as you halfheartedly growl you can’t help but admire her tenacity. Not that you’re done yet.

While she strokes your bulges you claw at her back and find an unmarred spot on her neck. Then you fucking _mar_ it, wanting this to last for days, wanting it so dark and large that her matesprit can’t miss it. She cries out with anger and pain and pleasure, and your fins flutter at such a divine sound.

You both pail simultaneously. Meaning neither of you can claim a full win, yet at this moment you don’t quite care. She slumps against you as much as you slump against her, sore and satisfied. Peace settles on you.

“You are a despicable beast,” you murmur into her ear.

“Mew are a little bitch fish.”

You snicker, and she joins you, and it feels like its own victory.

You’ll get her next time.


	25. Vwell It’s Probably Good To Take A Break Anywvay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | somnophilia/sleepy sex | **aphrodisiacs** | pregnancy |

“These colorful motherfuckers are bitchtits.”

Cronus, not paying much attention, hummed. He was in deep thought, fingertips thrumming on the table beside his map as he contemplated several different plans of action. Their next move could either put them at a great advantage or leave them in ruin. It wasn’t until there was suddenly a bouquet of brightly colored flowers showed in his face that he registered what Gamzee was talking about.

“Get this good smelling shit all up in your sniffnodes, motherfucker.”

He did, inhaling sharply from surprise. Cronus was assaulted by an overly sweet aroma that filled up his senses, momentarily dazing him. It was so _familiar_, and instantly set him on edge. It also made his nook clench, which was strange and alarming.

Managing to get ahold of himself, Cronus pushed the offending flowers back and got a good look.

Oh goddamn it.

“Gamzee, do you knowv vwhat flowvers those are?”

“Uh, sweet fucking miracles?”

“Pailing pollen. These flowvers carry pailing pollen.”

Gamzee looked between him and the flowers, giving an apologetic honk. Then he waggled his eyebrows.

“Might as well up and give in to this completely unintentional accident and ride the waves that all come over us, my fine ass fish motherfucker.”

“Vwas this just a ploy to get me undressed?” Gamzee honked again, grinning. Cronus couldn’t help a chuckle. “Cute. I can vwithstand their affect, howvevwer. So if you insist on staying in my quarters, go make yourself unobtrusivwe on the pile.”

Gamzee tossed him another wink, bringing the flowers back up to his nose as he obeyed. That boy was going to be a miserable horny mess in no time. Oh well. Did it to himself. Cronus had a little something called _willpower_. Also he didn’t inhale all that much so he should be fine, really.

Not even five minutes later he had a wiggly. Fucking traitor.

Cronus glanced back at Gamzee. The little clown bastard had scattered the flowers across his pile and scattered his clothes to the winds. His bulge was freely slithering around, fingertips idly playing with the tip. He tossed Cronus a lazy wink. Cronus turned back to his work.

After that Gamzee wasn’t quiet, letting out little moans and sighs that had Cronus’ nook clenching on nothing. The aphrodisiac nature of the pollen was really starting to take affect. It was hard to focus on anything but his steadily rising arousal. Cronus made a valiant attempt to stay on task but he was only troll, and eventually just had to say fuck it. Literally.

He pushed back from the table, chair legs scraping across the ground, and stood with a flourish. As he approached the pile, already unbuckling his pants, Gamzee just watched, eyes raking him up and down.

“Some miracle done brought down your extensive willpower, captain my motherfucking captain.”

“Shut up and spread your legs.”

Gamzee gladly did without hesitation. His grin spread wide across his face; Cronus’ bulge twisted excitedly.

“You are insufferable, Gamzee.”

“And you are still too motherfucking dressed, Captain Fine Ass.”

Cronus growled, more for show than anything. He tossed his clothes aside without taking his eyes off the little brat who matched his gaze evenly, licking his lips. Cronus’ bulge coiled and he imagined those lips around it. Those damnable flowers were really getting to him, however, urging him to pail already; he was in no mood dent himself any further.

He climbed onto the pile, straddling Gamzee’s hips and grabbing his chin, pulling him in for a kiss. Their bulges found each other instantly, wrapping tightly together. Gamzee bucked his hips just right and Cronus groaned.

Oh absolutely _not_. This brat was not going to lead things after pulling this stunt.

Growl strengthening, Cronus held him down and rocked their bulges together. Gamzee’s head fell back, not putting up a fight. Good. Cronus swooped down to mouth at his neck while he snuck a hand down to Gamzee’s nook. He pressed two fingers in, relishing the low groan Gamzee let out.

Cronus kept rocking, fingers pumping erratically, and gave in to the primal desires coursing through him from that damn pollen. He sucked hard on Gamzee’s neck, determined to mark the little scoundrel good. He didn’t let up until they’d both pailed, two shades of purple coating the pile.

They laid there for a moment, catching their breath. Cronus was still fucking horny.

“You knowv vwe’re going to be here until this vwears off, right? Sevweral hours at the vwery least.”

Gamzee just gave a delighted honk.


	26. Hot And Ready Servwice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | inflation | **latex/leather and soft** | vanilla/slow |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't exactly soft, but it sure does have leather.

Oh damn he’s _hot_.

You don’t know where Equius got this outfit—obviously tailor made around his spectacular fucking muscles—but you’re willing to bet a Maryam. You’ll have to do something nice for them. _Really_ nice. They deserve it.

Equius looks fucking tasty in leather that’s for sure. Specifically this leather maid outfit. It’s snug against his muscles until it fans out at the skirt. When he bends over you get a good shot of his ass. And the tops of his very long leather thigh high boots. They’re not high heels but you don’t blame the guy. He’d probably just wind up breaking them anyway.

Your head is still reeling that this is happening. And it wasn’t even you who proposed this! The guy came to you, perspiring like a storm cloud was hanging over his head solely and not quite meeting your eyes, as he ran this scenario by you: him dressed up and serving you properly. Obviously you’d fucking agreed. Sure at first you thought maybe it was an elaborate prank but here he is in your hive, slightly bent over as he dusts a lower shelf.

The curve of his ass peeks out teasingly. It’s been hypnotizing to watch it appear and disappear while he’s moved around cleaning. As nice as it’s been just watching and sipping on the drink he made you, you don’t know how much longer you can hold out before going over and interrupting him. With your bulge.

Actually, why bother? He said to use him however you saw fit for the whole night so you’ve got plenty of time for a bunch of stuff. Might as well go over and help yourself to the help.

Equius has to hear you coming over but he doesn’t turn around. Snaking your arms around his waist, you push your groin against that hot ass of his and lean down to press your cheek to his. You hear the hitch in his breath.

“You’re doing a real great job here, chief. You deservwe a rewvard, and besides, I knowv howv else you can servwe me.”

“However you see fit, sir.”

You groan, bulge jerking. You’ve been fully unsheathed for a little bit now, but if you hadn’t you think you might’ve spilled just from hearing that.

“Spread your legs for me, swveetheart.”

Equius does with an eagerness that has your nook slick and bulge begging to free itself. You help the poor thing out, pushing your pants down to your knees. It springs forward excitedly, finding the top of his boots and stroking. Wow, fuck, okay. That feels good. This might be awakening something in you. You’ll deal with that later, though. Right now you remind your bulge that there are other things to get to know, like Equius’ nook. It’s _dripping_, a trail leaking down his left thigh and onto his boot. That’s pretty fucking hot.

You guide your bulge to his nook and slowly sink in. Equius grips the bookcase, letting out a little exclamation of “oh fiddlesticks!” that’s frankly adorable. His nook eagerly takes you in. You grunt, pressing your forehead to the back of his neck. It feels _amazing_. Your bulge squirms around, encouraged when Equius suddenly bucks back against you. You don’t even try to go easy after that, bulge thrashing while you rock against his toned ass.

You can’t get enough of the feel of his leather against your fingertips. You spread out your hands against his chest, reveling in the sensation. Yeah you definitely need to explore this more.

You pail ridiculously quick and ridiculously hard. He clenches around you as his own orgasm hits and fuck it feels so _good_ that you hardly register the sound of breaking wood.

Then Equius falls and you go with him, along with several shelves and their contents.

“Oh my hoofness! I’m so sorry, my strength—“

“No vworries, chief,” you assure, patting his ass that got some of your slurry on it as you tumbled. “Good thing I havwe a hot maid to pick evwerything up.”


	27. Behavwioral Issues Can Be Corrected Evwen After Swveeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **orgasm denial** | suspension | **against a wall** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that crofioh like ten chapters ago?

You’re not quite sure how you ended up here but you’re not really complaining. You’re nook is full of bulge from a hot older troll, his mouth on your already marked neck, one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other grips your hip hard enough you’re sure it’ll be bruised later. He’s dressed while you’re completely naked, and damn does that really do something for you. Your wings are trapped against the stone wall but the discomfort long ago got overtaken by the pleasure you’re riding high on.

Cronus’ adult Alternian self is _hot_. Captain Ampora—you quickly learned not to call him Dualscar when he pushed your face against the wall and whipped your ass hard. He also told you sir was acceptable, but that small rebellious voice in the back of your pan holds you back from using that one. Once you slipped up and called him doll; he’d slapped your nook a few times and gave you some very stern words on respect. So you stick with captain.

He might be a bit intimidating—a lot, actually—but damn does he know what he’s doing. He nips at your ear before moving to the other side of your neck. First he places a soft kiss there, hand roaming up and tracing a grubscar. He jerks his hips suddenly, bulge brushing against your seedlap, and you gasp. It turns into a cry as he bites down again. Your gut lurches. You’re so _close_.

“Captain!”

Letting go of your flesh his mouth moves to your ear, whispering low and husky into it.

“Are you close?”

You give a needy, wordless sound as confirmation, trying to buck against him. The captain just chuckles, kissing your jaw and stroking your cheek in a surprsing show of tenderness. Then he pulls back.

Completely.

His bulge slips out of your nook, letting slurry fall down your thighs, and you let out a squawk of disbelief and confusion. There’s no pity in his eyes just amusement as he squeezes your wrists tighter and gets hold of his squirming bulge. It only takes a few strokes before he pails, slurry splattering across your thighs and stomach. Then he calmly tucks himself away.

“Hey, uh, what the fuck?”

“Hm?”

“I, haven’t pailed yet, captain.”

He pats your cheek and replies, “I’m awvare.”

“Are—are you going to, uh, do anything about that?”

“Of course.”

Relief floods you.

“I’m going to let you go and get on vwith my schedule. I’m a busy troll, after all.”

Wow okay, what the fuck?

The captain senses your confusion and agitation, and lets go of your wrists finally only to smoosh your cheeks between his hands; the one still has some slurry sticking to it. He seems disturbingly pleased.

“I don’t make a habit of rewvarding little brats vwho only evwer care about their owvn pleasure.”

“You, uh, you’ve been talking to Damara, huh? Or maybe Horuss. Or, wait, maybe my Cronus?”

He pulls your ear and you wince.

“You don’t get to call someone yours vwhen you just use them, boy. And I’vwe heard grievwances from all three of them. You havwe a nasty habit of just taking vwhat you vwant from your so called quadrants and friends before tossing them aside.”

“Listen, it’s complicated—“

The captain just yanks harder on your ear. You whimper.

“You’re just a spoiled little brat, boy. You need discipline and perhaps more than a little common sense. Consider this your vwake up call to do better.”

Suddenly he leans down, mouth ghosting over your ear.

“I think you can do better, boy. If you can properly make things up to those three, and provwe you really vwant to improvwe yourself, then you’ll earn a rewvard.” He pulls back, letting go of you fully, and you instantly feel bereft. “Until then, try to behavwe yourself, boy.”

Breathing heavy, you watch the captain walk off. Your nook aches, your bulge is coiled tight against your hip, and you can feel every mark he left on you. Most prominent is still your throbbing ass.

You guess you’re going to have to go grovel for forgiveness.


	28. Betwveen a Seadwveller and a Cold Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **Temperature Play** | Swallowing | Cross Dressing |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll ship Porrim with any version of Cronus

Porrim shivers, leaning back against the captain’s bare chest. He strokes her thigh with one hand, the other dragging an ice cube around the curves of her rumble spheres. She’s trapped by cold on every side. Something about that is strangely arousing, to know she can’t get away from it. Not when she’s pailing a seadweller, not as drops of water fall down her stomach and follow the contour of her bone bulge. It is swelled and _aching_, but a plug keeps her from unsheathing until the captain takes it out.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he whispers into her ear, the heat of his breath a brief yet stark difference. It makes her arch back as though welcoming more warmth. “Absolutely divwine.”

“Flatterer,” Porrim accuses teasingly, own breath labored.

“Flattery is vwhat people vwho just vwant something do. I merely speak the truth before my owvn eyes.”

Oh he is unfairly smooth. Porrim’s heart thuds harder, gut coiling in new arousal.

He kisses along her neck up to her jaw, taking his time. Porrim sighs. Then she gasps when that nearly melted sliver of ice brushes across her nook lips. Her hips buck encouragingly and he indulges her, slipping the ice inside. It’s shockingly cold. Her head falls back against his chest, clicking in a mix of arousal and momentary sensitivity.

The captain presses two fingers in beside it, swirling them around. She _keens_. Her toes curl, knee raising involuntarily, and he chuckles.

“Your sounds are just as lovwely as the rest of you. I could listen to them all evwening. In fact, that’s not a terrible idea.”

Porrim’s nook clenches, giving away just how appetizing that prospect is.

“Just lay back, swveetheart, and let me do all the vwork.”

“I can’t say no to an offer like that,” she pants.

He hums, fingers pumping while he rubs her raised thigh up to the knee and back down. It brings a small reprieve of minor heat. His mouth returns to her neck, tongue running along her bare skin. She moans, letting him indeed do all the work.

Pleasure builds up steadily. At one point he pulls out, making Porrim chitter unhappily, but a moment later his fingers are back with another piece of half melted ice. Her head falls back, hips jerking at the sudden cold intrusion. A shiver runs through her whole body, but the captain holds her steady, fingers igniting more heat as they start pumping again.

Everything builds up, bulge swelling almost painfully, until she can’t take it anymore.

“Captain, _please_.”

“Please vwhat, swveetheart? Anything you desire, just tell me.”

“Take the plug out already.”

“As you command, Porrim.”

He nips at her ear as the hand on her thigh inches up towards her aching bone bulge. He tugs gently on the plug, chuckling at her needy little whimper, until it’s finally dislodged. Without missing a beat her bulge is right there, pushing out of its confines and wrapping around the captain’s wrist. He gets a good grip on it and strokes the neglected thing.

It’s not long at all before Porrim orgasms, waves of pleasure coursing throughout her whole body and leaving her spent. She’s limp against the captain who pets and kisses her softly.

“Rest a bit, darling,” he whispers against her cheek. She sighs. “Vwhen you feel up to it vwe’ll try heat next.”


	29. Twvo Devwoted Twvo You(r Money)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | Aftercare | **Sex Work** | Role Play/Costumes |

Cronus loves what he does. It gets him _attention_.

There are a lot of humans who are into trolls. Especially sea dwellers. Hell, Cronus even has a few land dweller subscribers. They all see him, desire him, and willingly interact with him for what they want and that Cronus is more than happy to supply.

Sometimes he does live shows where his customers can pop in and out of, other times private subscriber based performances for people who pay a certain amount each month. For those he has the occasional helper, like this human he knows with a nice cock and eagerness to fuck a troll, the kinkier the scenario the better. Then there are the one-on-one sessions like what he’s doing now with twofoldArousal.

This guy is one of Cronus’ favorites. He’s always really generous with tips. From conversations they’ve had he’s pretty sure the guy is siphoning money from his kismesis’ account. Not Cronus’ problem, so long as the money keeps coming.

Speaking of coming. He’s got a job to do.

Cronus is kneeling on his concupiscent platform, thighs spread to show off the silicone bulge stuffed in his nook. It’s one of those double bulges, to match their dirty gold color, and even squirts slurry when he presses a button. Cronus prefers the fancy toys and so do his customers. He likes giving them top quality entertainment, thank you very much.

He sees the notification that twofoldArousal is typing and idly plays with his bulge as he waits. Soon enough a message pops up. Cronus grins.

“Can do, chief. Anything you vwant.”

He lays back against the pile of pillows he set up at the head of the bed so twofoldArousal can get a view of his wastechute. There’s a plug nestled in there that Cronus tugs at. His client says to go slow so he does, inching the plug out and moaning. It’s only a little exaggerated; the plug’s been in there for a while and he’s been worked up for a couple hours now. Honestly, being watched like this and engaged with really does something for Cronus. He should have started doing this sweeps ago.

The plug is finally free and he sets it aside before reaching into his sylladex, taking out a another fake bulge. This one is a sleek violet that twofoldArousal bought him. One of those special bulges modeled from a real one—again, pretty sure his kismesis’. Cronus doesn’t judge. He just eases it in his wastechute slow as he’d gone with the plug, groaning this time and fins wiggling as he’s all filled up.

On the screen twofoldArousal keeps tapping away, message after message of telling Cronus how good he looks, how he was hatched to take bulge. Cronus keens under the praise. It just feels good to be appreciated, especially with the shows he puts on.

He tells Cronus to stroke his bulge a little and Cronus obeys. He knows what [client] likes, knows he enjoys when his bulge wraps around his wrist while he strokes fingers along the base, teasing himself.

“Enjoying the vwiewv, chief?”

He gets a “hell fucking yes” that makes Cronus grin.

As he keeps going twofoldArousal’s commentary starts to taper off. Good. Means the guy is close, concentration torn between getting himself off and typing. He may have psionics to help him out, but that doesn’t mean shit when you can’t form words.

“Come on, chief, pail for me already. Doesn’t that sound good? Don’t you vwanna see your slurry inside me? _Please_.”

Sometimes he wants a lot of begging, but it seems that tonight he’s already reached his limit. He gives the order for Cronus to start pumping the twin bulges and Cronus does with gusto, hips raising as he fucks himself. His own orgasm is close, too, and by the time twofoldArousal tells him _now_ he’s ready to pail. Cronus presses the button and artificial gold slurry spills inside of him. There’s a lot, and it drips out of his nook as he keeps pumping the double bulges until he’s pailing with a gasp.

Cronus lays there for a moment, eyes closed as he catches his breath and basks. He can hear the soft dings alerting him to new messages. His lips twitch upwards as he works up the energy to read them.

All praise, of course, telling him how fucking hot he is like this. Then twofoldArousal says he sent a little extra, and that a package is coming his way. Something that he’ll have to use next time with a partner there. Delighted at the mystery, Cronus logs off and cleans himself up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm being coy, but we all really know who twofoldArousal is.


	30. Vworkplace Hazards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | corruption/training | teasing | **almost getting caught** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some minor side Darkleer♠️Summoner because I can't help myself.

Latula’s up on her desk, legs pushed open so Cronus can slot between them as he leans over, mouth on her neck while one hand squeezes a rumble sphere through her uniform as his other snakes up under the uniform, palming at her wet nook. She’s moaning, own hand tangling in his hair and thumb rubbing across the base of a horn.

“Mm, finally someone using their mouth to do something other than give me work or piss me off. You need to dock here more often.”

“Sure, I’ll just tell Gl'bgolyb to go on a diet.”

Latula snorts and flicks his fin.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re busy. Trust me, I know what that’s like, babe. At least you don’t have to deal with clowns.”

Moving up to tease her bone bulge that can’t release because of the form fitting nature of her tights, Cronus chuckles against her skin.

“Vwery unfortunate. Let me make it up to you.”

“I’ll allow it. Only because Exhibit A is so compelling.”

“Just vwait for Exhibit B.” He kisses up her jaw. “B for Bulge, by the vway.”

“Call it a legislacerator’s sixth sense, but I figured.”

Cronus lifts her hips and she helps push her tights over the curve of her ass. Instantly her bulge spills now that it has the room. He swoops down to drag his tongue across her nook lips, and her head falls back with a gasp, back arching.

“_Fuck_, Cronus babe, you better not stop that.”

“Vwhatevwer you desire, my swveetest—“

There’s a knock on the office door and they scramble, Latula shoving Cronus under her desk and stumbling over her tights into her chair. He pulls it in and settles between her legs again while she clears her throat.

“What is it?”

“I have important documents for you to sign off on.”

“You always do, Zahhak,” she groans. Cronus squeezes her calf. “I guess you can bring them in.”

The door opens and Zahhak comes in with a pile of papers that’s fucking ridiculous.

“Come right the fuck on.”

“Such language is quite unbecoming of a—“

“Shove it, Zahhak, I’m already in the middle of something.”

He looks at her desktop which is admittedly in disarray. She flashes him a grin and flicks a loose pencil at him.

“I’m reorganizing.”

He makes a sound that’s both indignant and disbelieving, but all he does is put down the pile of papers that actually makes a thud. Her eye twitches.

“I need these all signed right now. Right underneath the Highblood’s...signature.”

“You mean scribble.”

“It is not not my place to question his artistic decisions. I’ll just wait over here while you sign.”

“Every single page.”

“Yes.”

Latula sometimes really hates her job.

While she starts giving the fastest signatures of her life, Zahhak fills her in on important upcoming events that she doesn’t pay much attention to. Mostly because _sweet fucking troll hell_ Cronus’ tongue is pressed against her nook again. Bastard.

Bastard with such a talented fucking mouth. Damn him.

Latula should knee him in the face and make him behave, but his tongue wiggles in a way that makes her breath hitch and, well, she doesn’t really care about what Zahhak is droning on about.

A tongue in her nook _really_ makes signing papers better. Even better is when he occupies her bulge, letting it curl around his fingers. She starts to zone out, signature looking as nonsensical as the big clown’s. She does have to cover her mouth, angling her fist just right so Zahhak won’t catch her biting down.

Finally she gets to the last page and her signature’s been reduced to a squiggly line that drags across the paper. She slaps it in the done pile and thrusts them all at Zahhak.

“Alright, here. See yourself out. If you need me again—_don’t_.”

“You sound strained, neophyte Pyrope. Are you alright?”

“My damn hand’s cramping.”

Zahhak hums in a way that grates on her already strained patience before _finally_ leaving. Latula lets out a breath of relief. Then she leans back in her chair, gazing at Cronus from the top of her glasses. He winks unashamedly, tongue still moving inside her.

“Babe, you’re fucking impossible.”

He pulls back slowly, giving her a good view of the slurry coating his chin and tongue.

“You’re vwelcome.”

Latula can’t help grinning. She tugs on his horn and he lets her lead him up so she can kiss his mouth hard. The decadence of tasting her own slurry mixed with his saliva makes her gut clench. She reaches down and wraps her fingers around the edge of his top, starting to lift it up.

There is another knock and Latula shoves him back under her desk, wiping at her mouth.

“What now, Zahhak?”

“Yo, it’s just me,” Rufioh says, popping his head in. “Mind if I come in?”

“You already did.”

“Sweet, thanks.”

As he comes fully into the room Cronus tugs on her uniform. Her eyes follow where he’s pointing, widening at the slurry coating her glove. Hurriedly she slips it off and tosses it at his face before returning her attention to Rufioh.

“Need something? I’m really busy.”

Looking around at her messy desk he assumes, “Reorganizing?”

“You got it.”

“Neat.”

He sits down on the edge of her desk and her eye twitches; mostly because of the finger teasing a sensitive spot at the top oh her nook.

“So a few of us are getting together after the sun comes up for a little day drinking and partying. You in?”

“Possibly. I might be preoccupied.”

Cronus’ mouth is on her thigh, sucking. Latula sits up straighter, trying to keep her breath even.

“Oh right, isn’t your matesprit visiting? Or is he your diamond?”

“Matesprite.”

“Right, right. Uh, where is he? Thought you’d be spending as much time together as you could.”

“He stepped out a minute ago. The duties of the empire never stop.”

Neither do his goddamn hands, fuck. His other has grabbed her bulge, slowly pumping.

“Ha, true dat. Well, hey, bring him along. Pretty rad to party with an orphaner, right?”

“I’ll run the idea by him later.”

“Sweet. Well, uh, guess I’ll let you get back to organizing. Did you know you’re only wearing one glove?”

“It’s called fashion, Ruffles. Look into it sometime.”

“Heh, whatever you say.”

Thankfully he leaves and Latula could cry with joy. Instead she glares down at Cronus who’s got a finger inside her now as he drags his tongue around her nook lips.

“If I don’t pail in the next five minutes you hang.”

Cronus grins, winking, and without a word in his defense gets to work.

Outside her office, Rufioh walks over to Horuss who’s waiting for him. Leaning an elbow against his shoulder and earning a stern glare Rufioh informs, “Yeah, they’re fucking in there. “

“How absolutely lewd and yet hoofestly unsurprising. Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

“Why not? They’re matesprits, I won. Meaning—“

“Yes, yes. I’ll come to your disgraceful little ‘shindig’. Though I will not enjoy a moment of it.”

“Whatever you say, doll,” Rufioh replies with a snicker, slapping his ass.


	31. Vwishes Realized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | **WILDCARD** |

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!!! Nearly 1 month later but here we are lmao. I have so enjoyed spreading some love for Cronus and Dualscar, and adding a few new shipping tags :D
> 
> Thank you for coming on this fish journey with me. Maybe next year I'll do all clowns.
> 
> Oh! Btw, if you're here I'll assume you love Cronus and/or Dualscar. I'm putting together [a zine dedicated to them](https://coolscar-zine.tumblr.com) so come check it out, maybe apply while there are still a few days left!

You haven’t seen a smile this big on your own face in sweeps. Far more than you like to think about. It doesn’t look out of place, necessarily; more like when a bulb had long gone out and was just now being changed, casting light on shadows that had settled in.

It’s not _you _doing the smiling exactly. It’s him in your body, a you both younger and older all at once in a strange paradox that’s staggering to think about. He makes your fins wiggle, too, as giddy as a wiggler wearing his heart on his sleeve. While it’s bizarre to see such unguarded, _happy_ emotions on your face, it dredges up so much else. Wistfulness, desire, a contagious joy. It certainly amuses and delights you at how delighted your counterpart is.

Call it a form of narcissism, but you burn redder than the fire of the midday sun for Cronus Ampora, a young troll from a planet called Beforus that died far too soon. Before he ever had the chance to grow up.

He’d lamented about it before, head on your chest while he played with your larger hands. You realized how bittersweet it must be for him to look at you, to see what could have been yet wasn’t allowed. You love him so much and wanted to give him the opportunity to experience a body like yours if only for a brief moment. So you’d gone to your Mituna Captor and his descendent; if any two trolls could figure something out it was them. They’d messed around with the game data, using a lot of complicated terms you didn’t understand—and they were well aware of that fact, those assholes. Still, all that matters is that they could do it, and they did, and here you both are. In each other’s bodies.

It’s worth the favor you now owe them.

You chuckle as Cronus turns around, admiring himself in the floor length mirror. His eyes are so wide and bright in wonder. It does things to your pump biscuit. Your bulge, too, if you’re being honest. But that doesn’t matter right now. This is about him.

“I alwvays knewv you vwere hot, but damn.”

“Howv does it feel?” you wonder, lip twitching upwards at the compliment.

He turns to you with such a wide smile your heart flips.

“Amazing! This is so cool. You’re the best.”

His eyes shine with sincerity and exuberance as he sweeps you up in a tight embrace. You let out a breathy laugh.

“Oh vwowv, it’s vway different havwing your strength instead of just experiencing it. I can pick you up. Vwild.”

Cronus does, placing you on your desk and boxing you in, a hand on either side of your thighs.

“Heh. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, sugarbiscuit.”

“I really am. Vwhat about you? Is it vweird being young again?”

“Don’t phrase it like that.”

Cheeky little bastard just grins.

“It’s a bit strange, yes. Like putting on clothes that don’t quite fit the vway they used to. Evwen stranger is seeing you in my body. It really is an interesting sight. I don’t regret this.”

He swoops down and claims your lips suddenly. Eyes closing, you take in how this feels. It’s true you’re technically the same person from different timelines, but obviously not everything is exact. For instance, you know your hands are just a bit rougher than his, calloused in different ways. And while you’re both rather sensitive, he doesn’t have the control over it like you do. Which you realize quite starkly as his hands snake up your shirt, fingertips running along your sides and making you squirm a little. You really give a jolt when he starts teasing your grubscars. Damn, he’s paid attention to what you do to him.

You let him have some fun, exploring his body and tugging clothes off of you until you’re naked. He pushes you back so you’re propped up on your elbows as he kisses along your body. It’s surreal seeing your face gazing up at you like this, especially with Cronus’ mannerisms shining though. His fins wiggle as he makes his way down to your bone bulge, tracing it with his tongue and making your breath hitch. It’s swelling; Cronus really does get aroused so much easier. Something else you got a handle on with the extra sweeps.

While it’s a bit embarrassing to be as affected as a wiggler with no experience, you have to admit there’s a certain thrill to it. You might as well enjoy this change while you can. Maybe take a few notes, too, for later when you’re back in your own body.

As Cronus mouths your sheath you run fingers through his hair just how you like it. How you both like it, really. You catch the flutter of his eyelids as you really start massaging, and grin.

He works your bulge tip out with hardly any effort it feels like. Then he tugs on it until the full length slithers free. Your head falls back with a groan. Damn does he learn well.

Cronus licks at the base of your bulge, a hand gripping your thigh. Even with a mouth that’s not quite his own this boy knows how to give head. He lavishes your bulge with attention and for a bit you recline and savor it. He’s slow and teasing, tongue dragging along from base to tip before popping it into his mouth. Then he’s swirling his tongue in ways that have your nook clenching. You hold onto his horn, not pushing just needing something to touch, and let him have fun.

Eventually, though, you’re incredibly worked up, and feel a slickness running down your thighs. Which is wonderful, but not the place for this.

“Let’s take this to the platform, lovwe, before I havwe to clean slurry off my desk.”

He agrees, hoisting you up and carrying you over to the platform. He really is enjoying this. You can’t deny that it’s a nice change, being the one picked up. It’s easy to see why he loves you doing it to him so much.

Cronus lays you down and crawls up your body, claiming your lips again. This time you only indulge for a moment before gently pushing at his chest.

“Lie back and let me take care of you, swveetbiscuit. Just _experience_.”

Not putting up a fuss, Cronus rolls onto his back, lifting his hips when you pull at his pants and raising his arms when you tug his shirt off. You take your time, rubbing knuckles against the revealed skin and pressing kisses along the curves of your own body. His fins wiggle as he watches you.

When he’s as bereft of clothing and adornments as you, you straddle his midsection and cup his cheek, kissing him. Your other hand reaches up to rub at the base of a horn. He chirps, a bit of a deeper sound than what he’d give from his own body. It does something to your pump biscuit.

After a bit you pull away and move down, gently mouthing his gills. Cronus makes a needy sound, resting back against the platform and grabbing onto your hips. You enjoy when his eyelids flutter, when his fins can’t keep themselves still. He’s precious, and you want him to feel good.

You explore this body that’s so familiar to you yet completely new from this angle. He squirms as you kiss down his chest, his stomach, give either grubscar attention. You suck on one as you palm the other for a bit before switching.

His hips buck and you stroke them steady before doing the same to his thighs. His legs spread and you settle between them, first lavishing his inner thighs with attention. You skirt close to his dripping nook but don’t yet touch it. His bulge, meanwhile, finds a horn and clings to it desperately. You don’t deter the aroused thing, but neither do you give it any more friction than that, instead nuzzling your cheek against his left thigh.

“Howv do you feel, Cronus?”

“Like I’ll be the first troll to die from being too horny,” he whines, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Vwell, vwe vwouldn’t vwant that nowv vwould vwe?”

You press your mouth to his nook, chuckling. He lets out a high pitched chitter, back arching. Such a beautiful sight he is, whether he’s in his own body or yours. The way he moves, his cadence, his flair for dramatics. It’s so easy to get lost in your love for this troll. He’s magnificent. You want nothing more to make this night worthy of him.

“Just lie there and enjoy yourself, sweetbiscuit. Vwe havwe time.”

He keens as your tongue darts out, teasing his nook lips. Such a beautiful sound, and the thought of what else you’ll draw from him tonight just entices you. This is more than worth whatever favors you’ll owe the Captors.


End file.
